Highest Bidder
by Eideann
Summary: Captured by Skeletor and auctioned off to the highest bidder, Prince Adam stumbles upon an unknown and perverse evil, and quickly discovers that death is not the worst thing that can befall him.
1. Collecting

**Chapter 1 - Collecting**

Adam walked along the narrow path, enjoying the cool air of the day. Over the last month, He-Man had been needed so frequently that it was nice just to be himself for once. Light fell in dappled patches from the leafy canopy overhead, and there was a spicy scent of green growing things all around them. Small noises made it clear that all was normal in the woods as the animals went about their daily activities, largely ignoring the pair of intruders.

Teela had gone on ahead, looking back over her shoulder at him impatiently. She turned around and stood at the crest of a small rise, hands on her hips, foot tapping impatiently. "Enjoying the scenery, your highness?" she called.

He didn't change his pace, which visibly annoyed his friend. When he was in close enough range that he didn't have to yell, he said, "Yes, actually, I am. We don't usually have an opportunity to just walk any more. Whenever we come here, it's because there's some battle to be fought or enemy to be tracked."

Teela humphed. "As if you come then," she said, flipping her long, auburn ponytail back over her shoulder. "You're usually nowhere to be found."

The prince gritted his teeth. "Could we not?" he said.

She shrugged, turning away. "You brought it up." Adam watched his oldest friend walk away from him, her shoulders set with irritation and sighed. Being He-Man might come in handy for saving the world, but it was sure screwing up the rest of his life.

"There's no need to be in a hurry," he said, trotting a little to catch up with her. "Your father said as much. In fact, hurrying would be unhelpful."

"We're not to the part of the forest where avornin is common yet," she said. "There's no point in dilly-dallying. We should get to –"

"Over there," Adam said, shading his eyes and squinting. "Red flower, blue thorns. I think that's some over there."

"What?" She looked too, and Adam resisted the urge to crow as she said, "You're right." They walked off the path and picked their way over to the small field of vines. "We need about two pounds of blossoms."

Adam nodded, grimacing, and went down on his knees gingerly, carefully avoiding the thorns. Teela was less careful, and she let out a muffled curse as she scraped herself. Adam reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. "Here, Teela, you'd better wash that out. Avornin can be kind of –"

She snatched the square of fabric and said, "I know!"

He started gathering blossoms, dropping them into the sack Man-at-Arms had given him. Duncan needed them for an experiment he was doing, and since there had been no real trouble for that week or so, Adam had suggested that he and Teela go gather blossoms. Skeletor would have no reason to expect them to be in the forest, and the undergrowth provided ample cover for Adam's transformation should He-Man be needed.

His father had approved the plan, and they had set out, walking instead of flying, since avornin tended to be found in shady hollows and was thus hard to find from the air. They gathered blossoms in silence for awhile, then stood up and moved on.

It would take several more stops to fill their bags sufficiently. The blossoms didn't weigh much, and they didn't dare take all the blooms from one set of vines. _Besides, it's always better to come back with more than was needed,_ Adam thought, turning his face up to the sun as they walked.

"I should be out on patrol," Teela said abruptly, and Adam turned to her.

"What?"

"I was assigned to patrol today, and –"

"Is that why you're being such a grump?" he asked. "You didn't want to come?"

She scowled. "I have a job, Adam."

"I know, but . . ." He shook his head. "I just thought . . . since we haven't been spending as much time together as we used to, it might be nice to have a day of relative rest, where we could talk and just . . . I don't know, be friends."

"Is that why you suggested this?"

"I also needed some peace," he said in a rare moment of honesty. After a second, he realized how badly she could take that, since it wasn't Adam who'd been active lately, it was He-Man.

"Have the court twits been giving you a hard time?" she asked sympathetically, and he blinked.

"Um . . . yeah," he said, trying to remember if anyone had been pushy in the last few days. "Darla won't back off, you know?"

Teela nodded. "I've heard her telling her friends that she's halfway to being princess of Eternia when she didn't think anyone could hear her."

"In her dreams!" Adam exclaimed. "I don't even like being in the same room with her."

"Really? You seemed comfortable enough when she was dancing with you at the last ball."

Adam snorted. "Oh, so I'm supposed to make it obvious that I can't stand the daughter of one of the most influential dukes in the kingdom?" he asked. "Being a prince isn't easy, especially when you really get old enough for the marriage market. I have to wear a lot of masks."

"Oh, so you haven't slept with half the girls at court?" she asked skeptically and he stared at her.

"Are you completely insane?" He reached out and tugged on her pony tail. "Or maybe the sun's getting to you. Right, if I slept with any of the girls at court, I might as well sign a betrothal agreement and give her a ring."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm the crown prince, Teela. Most of those girls have been primed by their mothers to seduce me and then proclaim their success to the world. And do you really think that if I had slept with some girl, and my father found out about it, I wouldn't be either dead or married within the month?"

She looked at him quizzically. "I hadn't thought about it that way." They walked in silence for a few moments, then she cleared her throat and looked out into the woods, ostensibly searching for more avornin blossoms. "Have you slept with anyone?" she asked, not looking at him.

He flushed. "That's kind of a personal question, don't you think?"

She shrugged. "I just wondered. I mean, I thought you had, and I was curious."

"Have you?"

Her skin turned a becoming shade of pink. "No. I'm not in a very good position for that, either. I mean, most of the men I know are soldiers, and I'm their captain. Or they're courtiers, and I can't afford to get into political entanglements."

"Exactly," Adam said. "Most of the women I know are either courtiers or servants, both off limits." He sighed. "But it's not like I've been desperate to do anything about it." _It's not like I've even had time to think about it._

"I guess there's too much going on," she said, smiling. Then she scanned the forest and said, "Hey, there's some more."

They picked there way across the intervening ground, going around a patch of stinging nettles to reach the avornin. After a few moments, Adam looked up. "Teela, do you notice anything?"

She gave him a perplexed look. "No, why?"

He shook his head, uncertain what the problem was, and she turned away. As he bent back to his work, he sighed, thinking that he was becoming paranoid. Then he realized what the problem was. The normal animal sounds had stopped. He started to his feet, but just as he rose something slammed into him from behind, encircling his body from hips to shoulders and throwing him forward.

"Adam!" Teela got to her feet, her staff ready in her hands.

He struggled to stand up, but the tightness of the thing that was holding him constrained his movements too much. It was some kind of pliable but incredibly strong net, and his arms were pressed against his side and chest, where they had landed when the thing caught him. He felt it as Teela stepped across to straddle him.

A gruff and familiar voice spoke. "Outta the way!" Beastman snarled.

"Yeah," Trap Jaw said. "We don't need you!"

"You're going to have to come through me to get him!" Teela shouted. She went into a flurry of action, and Adam could hear grunts of pain as her staff connected with each of the villains in turn. Beastman flew into a tree not far from where Adam was lying, but unfortunately, it didn't knock him out. Instead, the hairy mongrel leapt on the prince and lifted him into the air.

Putting his claws against Adam's neck, he yelled out, "Stop, or the prince gets it!"

Adam had a very good view as Teela slammed Trap Jaw across the face and then whirled. All the energy went out of her as she saw the position he was in. "Run, Teela!" Adam yelled, but Beastman's claws pressed harder against his throat, strangling the sound.

The staff dropped from her hands as she stared, eyes wide. "Let him go!" she commanded, but Beastman just laughed.

"I don't think so!" Trap Jaw replied, rising behind her. "What the boss wants, he gets." He grabbed her arms and, throwing her roughly to the ground, he bound her arms and legs while Adam watched, fuming helplessly. Then he stood up. "Let's go!"

Beastman tucked Adam under his arm and they headed out, Adam feeling ludicrously like a doll in the hands of a large and unfriendly child. He kicked out, but there was no possibility of escape. He could see Teela lying on the ground, struggling vainly. "What are you doing?" Adam demanded. "You can't leave her like that!"

"What, you want we should kill her?" Trap Jaw asked and Beastman laughed. Adam fell silent, his mouth going dry at the thought that they might follow through on that threat, but they just carried him away. Finally, they reached a vehicle and Beastman started to toss him in.

"Wait!" Trap Jaw growled. "Be gentle." _Be gentle?_ Adam thought incredulously. "The boss doesn't want him marked up too much."

"Oh, right," Beastman said, and he lay Adam carefully on the seat. They took off and the prince lay there, wondering what bone face had planned that he wanted Adam unmarked for.

* * *

Teela growled in frustration as she was forced to watch helplessly while Beastman and Trap Jaw carried Adam away. The metal contraptions Trap Jaw had used on her wrists and ankles were solid, and she wasn't going to get loose from them easily. They consisted of a rigid metal bar about six inches long with wide cuffs at either end that prevented her joints from moving easily.

Craning her neck, she saw that they were going to be out of sight in a moment. Looking around, she marked the direction they were taking so she'd be able to guide the searchers correctly when the time came, and then she started contorting so that she could get herself upright.

When she was finally sitting on the forest floor, she contemplated her situation. Her hands were bound behind her and her com unit was attached to the front of her belt. She couldn't reach it, and it would be next to impossible to activate it without using her hands because the buttons were recessed so they couldn't be pressed by accident.

After a moment's thought, she started working on sliding her belt around her waist, turning it so that she could reach the device.

It wasn't easy. The belt was designed to fit snugly, so that it wouldn't shift during battle. She had to twist and turn and suck in her gut to get it to move, and her hands kept slipping. First, it was because of the position they were in, but then they started getting slick from sweat, and her wrists started to cramp, which just made matters worse. The sun was westering before she got the bloody thing where she could reach it.

Running her fingers over the surface, she found the button she was looking for and pressed it. It made no sound, and she couldn't tell if it had activated properly, but somewhere, on a computer console back at the palace, a button should be flashing and an alarm should be sounding. She'd never used the distress beacon before, but she'd answered it often enough to know it was reliable.

Frustrated, her hands growing sticky with a substance that she was beginning to suspect wasn't sweat after all, her wrists aching, she sat and waited for the response to her call.

Now, with nothing to do, she was left to wonder what was happening to Adam. What did Skeletor plan to use the prince of Eternia for? Was he bait? Was he to be a sacrifice? Or did he have even darker plans?

Teela closed her eyes and tried not to imagine what Skeletor might do.

* * *

Adam was very nervous as they flew across the Dark Hemisphere. What did Skeletor want with him? From what they'd said to Teela, the minions had clearly been sent out to capture him, and this assumption was confirmed when they called their base. He'd heard Skeletor's high, nasal cackle, and then the Lord of Snake Mountain had said that he would call the 'other teams' in.

His sword was still in its sheath on his back, but it might as well be at the bottom of the sea for all he could do to reach it. His arms were held in against his sides by this device, which appeared to be a simple mesh net of some incredibly strong substance that enclosed Adam's torso completely.

The smell of lava filled his nostrils, telling him that they were getting close to Snake Mountain. Then they flew into a cave and set down. Beastman got out of the front seat and reached in to lift Adam out. "What's going on?" he demanded, but neither of them spoke. Beastman simply carried him through the halls of Snake Mountain. Adam looked around, trying to distract himself from wondering what might happen to him. The walls were rough-cut and not smooth. He wondered if they were original to the design or if these corridors had been added by Skeletor or some other squatter in the years since the Snake Men fell.

The walls smoothed out and they finally came to the doors of Skeletor's throne room. Trap Jaw opened them and they entered, Adam feeling once more like a hapless plaything in the hands of a careless child. The prince craned his neck and saw that Merman, Clawful, and Whiplash were standing at the foot of the throne.

Beastman set him on his feet and then let go. Adam stood straight, trying to preserve his dignity despite the object that held him helpless, then glared up at the self-proclaimed 'overlord of evil,' who was sitting atop his throne.

"Very good, Beastman, Trap Jaw. I am pleased." He rose and walked slowly down the steps.

"What do you want?" Adam asked, forcing his voice to be hard and demanding. How he wanted to have his sword in hand, prepared to do battle . . .

"Well, first," Skeletor said, reaching over Adam's head. "I don't think you'll be needing this." He drew the Power Sword from its sheath on Adam's back and, turning, leaned it against the side of the steps. Adam stared at it, willing it into his hand, but it didn't move. Skeletor put one clawed finger under the prince's chin and turned his head so that they were face to face. "Very nice indeed. There's a small scrape on his forehead, but his hair will cover that. He stepped back and looking at someone behind Adam, he spoke. "Have my guests arrived?"

"They have, Lord Skeletor," Evil-Lyn said, and Adam tried to turn his head but the restraint foiled him. "Tri-Klops and Tu Badd are watching them right now."

"Things are shaping up quite nicely," Skeletor said, rubbing his hands together.

"What's going on?" Adam asked.

It was odd how fleshless bones could convey a malicious smile. Adam felt a flutter in his gut as he stood helpless before his enemy. Skeletor turned and walked up the steps, carrying Adam's sword with him. When he reached his throne, he turned and sat down, resting the sword across his knees. "Well, we mustn't keep our guests waiting too long," he said. "Remove the restraint."

Trap Jaw walked up and pulled it away, leaving Adam standing in front of Skeletor's throne. When he had gone a few feet away, Adam launched himself towards Skeletor and his sword.

He hadn't gotten far when his body froze in place accompanied by that strange tingling sense he got when magic hit him. Evil-Lyn's spell brought him back to a standing position and held him there while she walked around him. She conjured up a comb and started straightening his hair. "Do you want to change his clothing?" she asked. "Or do you want to present him as he is?"

"As he is, I think. After all, they are expecting the prince of Eternia, and this is how the prince of Eternia dresses."

Adam grit his teeth and glared. "Why all this attention to my appearance? What are you going to do with me?"

Skeletor laughed and gazed down at the prince with those unnervingly eyeless sockets. "Me? I am going to do nothing with you, Prince Adam," he said contemptuously. "I'm going to leave that to the highest bidder!" He threw back his head and startled cackling. The minions around and behind Adam joined in their lord's amusement and Adam felt his eyes widen. _The highest bidder?_

* * *

Teela looked up as the wind raider hovered over her and landed. Her father jumped out followed by Mekanek and Man-E-Faces. Manny turned immediately to his monster face and started sniffing the air. Her father ran over to her and knelt behind her, trying to get the bonds on her wrists undone.

"Elders!" he cursed. "Your hands are all over blood."

"Father, they took Adam!" she exclaimed. "It's been forty minutes at least, but they went that way." She nodded, still unable to point.

"I've got the scent!" Manny yelled and Mek looked at her father.

"Go. We'll catch up." He kept working on her wrists and finally he got them free. Shoulders aching, she brought them around front and looked at the abrasions encircling them. "Who was it?"

"Trap Jaw and Beastman. Father, they came after him specifically. Skeletor sent them to capture Adam."

He looked up at her, eyes unreadable. "How did it happen?"

"There was something, some kind of net, that wrapped around him and sealed itself in front. What's really weird is that I don't think they would have attacked me if I hadn't tried to stop them."

His eyes narrowed. "That is odd." He was just finished freeing her ankles when Mekanek and Man-E-Faces returned.

"They're gone," the long-necked master reported. "There were signs of an air vehicle, but it's long gone."

Manny nodded. "I couldn't even scent their exhaust."

"So we'll have to assume they've already got him to Snake Mountain."

"I'm sorry, Father," Teela said. "I wasn't paying close enough –"

"Not now," he said, scooping her up into his arms. "Mek, call the palace and let's get Teela to the infirmary." Her father put her into the wind raider and sat beside her as they flew toward the palace, Mek making his report and Manny piloting.

* * *

Adam stood motionless while Evil-Lyn arranged his hair to her liking and tugged his clothing into place. Then she gently forced his wrists together and put them in a binder like the ones he'd seen Trap Jaw putting on Teela in the forest. _Is she okay? Can she reach her com unit? How soon will we be missed?_ Finished, Evil-Lyn stepped back and released the paralysis.

"What do you think?" she asked, surveying her handiwork.

Skeletor walked down the stairs to the floor and gazed with evident satisfaction at Adam. "He'll do very nicely. Come along, boy."

Adam stayed stock still. "You're selling me?" he asked incredulously.

Taking his arm, Skeletor wheeled him around. "I am indeed, Price Adam," he said, his voice low and malevolent. "I've called together a diverse selection of persons, all of whom I thought might be at least marginally interested in my wares."

The prince tried to drag his captor to a stop, but Skeletor squeezed his arm tightly and jerked him forward. "Would you rather I put you in a cage?"

The Power Sword was still in the throne room, resting against Skeletor's throne. Adam turned his head. All of the minions were accompanying them, so the sword should be unprotected. _Yeah, all I have to do is break away from Skeletor, dodge through six minions and get the sword, then hide somewhere to transform . . . ._ He turned facing forward again.

Suddenly jerking his arm out of Skeletor's hand, he turned, but once again, Evil-Lyn's spell caught him and forced him back to a passive standing position. "Perhaps I should simply levitate him into the room, Skeletor," she said, sounding amused. "Once he's there, he won't be going anywhere."

"True." Adam couldn't see, but he guessed that Skeletor must have nodded approval, for Evil-Lyn magically lifted him from the floor. He was fuming, his stomach churning with acid. If Skeletor sold him . . . how would the masters find him again?

They paused before a large doorway, and Trap Jaw and Whiplash ran forward to open the doors. Skeletor gave Adam an unnerving grin and walked in. Evil-Lyn caused him to follow her overlord and came right behind.

It was a large, round room, lit by torches along the walls and four large braziers that surrounded a dias in the middle. Seats encircled the dais, and on those seats were people clothed in uniform robes of dusky black, their faces concealed within hoods. Adam's gut fluttered with anxiety. _Who are these people?_ He counted at least forty or fifty in the room, but he didn't know how many of those were bidders and how many might be minions, for they seemed to be gathered in small groups.

Skeletor and Evil-Lyn took him down to the dais. As soon as the gathered crowd saw him, a murmur ran around the room. When they were in the center of the room, Evil-Lyn lowered him to the floor and released the spell. More murmurings filled the room as he moved and looked around. He couldn't see any faces, just shapes, some hulking, some tiny.

Skeletor stood behind him, placing one hand on his shoulder. "I have called you all here for what promises to be a very pleasing afternoon's entertainment. Each of you, at one time or another in the past, has been unlucky enough to receive attention from Randor, now king of Eternia." Adam glanced back over his shoulder at Skeletor's face. He tried to duck his shoulder out from under the villain's hand, but Skeletor merely tightened his grip till Adam winced.

"I present before you, Randor's only child, his son and heir, Prince Adam." There was an approving sound as the gathered people leaned together to talk. At least one person in every grouping was focused firmly on Adam, however. The prince began to feel very frightened. "I offer him for auction. You may do with him what you like once you have him, but I was careful to capture him with a minimum of damage, so he comes to you pristine and untouched."

"How untouched?" a voice called. There must have been a spell on the room to make sound in the gallery directionless, because Adam couldn't be certain where the question came from, only that the speaker was male.

"Completely," Skeletor said. "At least by us. I can't speak for what he may have done before we captured him." The amusement in his voice was answered by a ripple of laughter around the room, and Adam flushed.

Another voice spoke. "If I'm going to buy a slave, I'd like to see a bit more of him." This voice was female and Adam flushed even more. _Slave?_ Adam shivered. "Take off his shirt, at least."

Skeletor shook his head. "I'm sure whomever buys this paragon of virtue wants to be long gone before Randor arrives, and I don't know how soon the young prince will be missed." He looked around. "There is one stipulation. When you're done with him, he must die." Adam flinched and his eyes widened. There was a brief silence in the room. "Now, let's start the bidding at five hundred gold crowns."

The bidding began, and Adam hoped desperately that the masters would show up to rescue him soon. Surely they had been missed by now, though he didn't think it had even been an hour yet. If Teela couldn't reach her com unit, they'd have no reason to be looking for him.

He listened to the numbers rapidly growing and bit his lip, praying that someone would come soon.


	2. Going, Going, Gone

Chapter 2 – Going, Going, Gone 

Randor was waiting impatiently for Duncan when the wind raider landed. A group of medics was nearby with a float pallet for Teela. Duncan handed his daughter out, and she sought the king's eyes. "I'm sorry, your majesty," she said.

The king shook his head, his eyes on the bloody mess of her wrists. "Don't worry yourself, Teela." Marlena rushed across the courtyard, eyes wide with worry. She glanced at Randor, who nodded, and, the message that he would take care of retrieving their son having been passed without words, the queen took charge of Teela, chivvying the medics and reassuring the girl.

That done, Randor turned to Duncan. "We're certain that he's been taken to Snake Mountain?"

"Unfortunately, nothing is certain, sire," Duncan said, shaking his head. "But where else would Skeletor have his goons take him?"

Randor nodded, his mouth set in a determined line. "Well, then, let's go." Ram-Man and Stratos had walked up. "We're all here."

"Let's go?" Duncan repeated. "Randor, you can't –"

"The hell I can't!" the king thundered. "Now, there's no time for arguing."

"It could be a trap," Man-at-Arms said firmly. "Sire, you –"

Randor shook his head and, putting a hand on the side of the wind raider, swung up into it. "If it's a trap, then it's you're job to keep it from working, now, isn't it?"

Duncan stared at him for a moment, then climbed up next to him, nodding to the others. Within moments all but Stratos were aboard and the wind raider took off. Duncan raised an eyebrow at his king. "No pressure, huh?"

Randor's expression softened slightly and he shrugged. "I'm not leaving my son to be rescued by others again, old friend." His eyes narrowed. "And Skeletor is going to pay dearly for every pain Adam suffers and every pang of fear."

* * *

The bidding had grown astronomical in an amazingly short amount of time, and Adam found himself wondering just what these people wanted to do with him that they were willing to pay so much for him. _Before they kill me,_ he thought unhappily. He wanted his sword. He would give practically anything for his sword.

"Skeletor!" It was the woman who'd asked to see more of him earlier. The Lord of Snake Mountain called a brief halt in the bidding. "If I'm going to pay so high a price, I really think I should get to see what I'm buying."

Skeletor paused, apparently considering her request. Another voice spoke up, a deep baritone. "That seems fair enough to me," he said.

"Very well," Skeletor said. Walking around behind Adam, he drew a single claw down the side seams of first Adam's vest, and then his shirt. Adam tensed at the first touch, and tried to pull away, but Evil-Lyn froze him again. When the seams were cut, Skeletor pulled both garments off, dropping them to the floor, and Adam stood, naked to the waist, for all to see. Evil-Lyn dropped the paralysis spell again and Adam shifted, wishing he could cover himself.

His heart was racing, and the bidding started again. As the sum grew higher, bidders started dropping out. He heard a bit of cursing as the number dropped from ten, to seven, then finally down to two bidders, going back and forth. One of them was the woman who kept demanding to be shown more of him.

Finally, Skeletor raised a hand. "We could do this all night, it seems," he said, and those present agreed, muttering. "You two, I want each of you to place a final bid, write it out on a piece of paper. Whomever bids higher gets the boy."

Adam stood, waiting, while the minions took the slips of paper from two people and walked up to Skeletor. An idea had occurred to him, to suggest that his father would match whatever bid they gave and give it as a reward to anyone who returned him, but there was no way the coffer of the kingdom would extend to several hundred thousand gold crowns. It was past half a million already, and Adam didn't want to know what numbers were on the paper that Skeletor was now unfolding.

He chuckled as he looked at them. "We have a clear winner," he said, taking Adam's arm and leading him off the platform over to the waiting robed bidder. The prince tried to pull away, but Skeletor merely tightened his grip till the boy gasped with pain. "I hope you have the cash in hand."

A slim hand gestured and one of the figures gathered around the bidder handed the money across in two large bags. Skeletor handed them off to Beastman and shook hands with the bidder.

"He's yours. Take him away."

Two of the figures with the bidder, Adam guessed they must be guards, took hold of his arms. He started trying to fight, but it was no use. They were strong, and he was outnumbered. Besides, the room was full of people who would, evidently, be quite happy to take him home with them.

As he was taken out of the room, Skeletor started cackling. "Enjoy!" he called, laughing demonically.

* * *

They landed near Snake Mountain in near total darkness, and Randor was startled that there had been no resistance to their approach whatsoever. "This has all the feel of a trap, sire," Duncan said, activating the light on the end of a staff and holding it high. "Are you sure we shouldn't send for back up?"

"Duncan, we are not going to leave Adam in there for five more minutes," Randor growled, leaping out of the wind raider.

"I just don't want him to get both of you!" Duncan replied.

Randor waited for them all to form up on the ground, and then they started towards the mountain, weapons at the ready. Before they had gotten very far, Whiplash and Tri-Klops appeared from behind boulders about forty feet off.

"Skeletor's expecting you," Tri-Klops called.

Randor stared, his hand on his sword tightening. He didn't need Duncan's mutter of, "It's a trap," to know this didn't look good.

"Where's my son?"

"Skeletor will answer all your questions," Tri-Klops said. "Follow me."

After a brief pause to consider, Randor nodded. He could hear Duncan's muffled cursing and Mekanek calling the palace to report their movements.

There was no reduction in battle readiness as they followed Skeletor's minions, and Randor kept a wary eye out. The room they were led to wasn't very deep into the mountain, and when they entered, they could see that all of the minions were there, which reduced the chance of ambush considerably. Skeletor stood to the side of a dais in the center of a ring of seats. It had the look of an arena.

Randor strode forward, aware that Duncan was close behind him. "Where is my son?" he demanded.

Skeletor's grin broadened. "I have no idea," he said, his tone full of amusement.

The king stared. "What do you mean?" He spotted something on the dais and ran across, picking up Adam's shirt and vest, which had been cut open at the side seams. Fury shook his voice as he turned, clutching the damaged garments. "Where is he?"

"Gone," Skeletor said dismissively. "And I don't know where he was taken, or even, for certain, by whom."

Randor walked menacingly towards his nemesis, the fabric of Adam's clothing clutched tightly in his hand, held out towards Skeletor. "This isn't a game!" he snarled.

"No, it's not," the skull-faced man responded, all amusement gone from his tone. "But your son is not here. You may search the Mountain, if you like, I'll give you free run of the place, but I assure you, he's not here."

"Where is he?"

"As I said, I'm not sure which of my guests took him."

"What are you talking about?" Duncan demanded.

"Tri-Klops?"

Skeletor's technician gestured one of his ubiquitous doomseekers forward and activated it, casting a flat image into the air before them. Adam stood, wrists bound, on the dais, still fully clothed, and Skeletor was giving some sort of speech to a gathered throng of anonymous black-robed figures. The boy looked terrified, his eyes shifting from Skeletor to the minions to the audience and back again.

Randor listened in growing fury. "Are you saying you sold my son at auction?" The image shifted, and they could see Adam, now stripped to the waist, being led to a robed figure, and bags of money changing hands. Then Adam was taken out of the room between a pair of taller people – it was impossible to tell gender or even race inside those robes. Then the image fizzled and vanished.

"Beastman?" The hairy red fiend walked forward, carrying two large clinking bags. "I don't really need the money," Skeletor said, and Randor stared in appalled shock. "One million gold crowns, exactly. I started at five hundred, but the bidders were very enthusiastic. Restitution, for the loss of your son."

Randor was just staring at the bags, horrified, uncertain what to do, when Duncan let out a scream of rage and launched himself at Skeletor, his mace held high. The villain stepped back in shocked surprise and barely managed to raise his blade to meet the mace. The king's breath caught. That blade wasn't

Skeletor's sword, it was Adam's!

Stuffing his son's garments into his belt, Randor rushed forward and joined in the fighting that had started. He beat Skeletor back from Duncan, then grabbed his friend by the arm. "We don't have time for this!" he shouted. "We have to find Adam!"

Duncan's eyes widened. "You're right." Skeletor rushed them again as Randor gave the order to retreat, and Randor met his attack with a volley of blows that disarmed him. Duncan seized up the sword, Ram-Man seized up the money which Beastman had dropped, and they left without much resistance.

When they were in the air again, Mek said, "Not that I'm faulting you or anything, but why'd you grab the cash, Rammy?"

The large man's brows drew together. "I don't wanna think about what Skeletor could do with a million crowns," he said darkly, and Randor nodded grim agreement.

"Now we have to work out where to look for Adam," Duncan said, sounding almost frantic. "And just how to do we do that?"

"Are those cameras you had put up to watch Snake Mountain operational yet?" Randor asked. "If they are, we could start by trying to trace the 'guests' as they leave."

"Good thinking."

They flew silently after that, and Randor pulled the crumpled fabric out of his belt, smoothing it, wondering how he was going to tell Marlena that they didn't have Adam yet. Wondering where the boy was, and what torments he was suffering, and at whose hands.

All of the gathered bidders were people who had a reason to feel wronged by him, Randor contemplated. That was not a short list, but they could narrow it by considering only those who were likely to have sufficient funds to participate in such an event.

He shook his head, lost in dark thoughts. Before they found him, Adam might be seriously injured or even dead. _NO!_ He stiffened his resolve. They would find him, in whatever state, and they would deal with that when they got there. And when he had leisure, Skeletor would pay.

* * *

The guards had muffled him in a black robe identical to theirs before leading him out to a vehicle and putting him in it. He struggled, but there were six of them, plus his new owner, so there was no use. The guards climbed in beside and around him, with the bidder in the front seat. He didn't know for sure, because she hadn't spoken, but he suspected it was the woman whose voice he had heard. The woman who had wanted him stripped. What cause did she have to resent his father, Adam wondered. And what did she want to do with his father's son?

They flew across into the Light Hemisphere, where the sun was set already and the stars were high. He couldn't see very much about the place where they set down, but it was, if he was any judge of distance and direction, quite a distance from the palace in the midst of farmland. The guards pulled him out of the vehicle and led him toward a small building that had no lights inside. One of them touched a wall and a faint glow shone around his hand, and the door opened. Adam gulped. _Magic? Or technology?_

They walked into a dark room and the door shut behind them, closing out the dim light of the stars. There was a brief, odd feeling of movement, but Adam wasn't sure if it was just the darkness of the space and nerves getting to him. Then one of the guards stepped forward and opened a door into a well-lighted room. Blinded by the sudden rush of light, Adam had to rely on his captors to lead him through into the next room. Then the door behind him was shut as well, and he felt another odd, slightly disorienting sensation of movement. He looked around him.

The room was circular, and pleasantly appointed with seats around the edges of the space, and a small grouping of chairs to one side. The colors were all soothing ones, greens and blues and purples. The guards brought him forward to the very center of the room and removed the enshrouding robe. It was good to be free of it, for they hadn't removed the cuffs before wrapping him in it.

A moment later, all the guards removed their robes, and one of them gathered them all up and bundled them out of sight in a cabinet. The six of them were revealed to be universally attractive young men. They were all tall and well muscled, and their eyes were all oddly empty, as if there was no thought in them.

Their uniform consisted of sleeveless shirts, much like the one that Skeletor had taken off him, only dark red in color. Their pants were black, and tucked into their matte black boots. Each man had a mark of some kind on his arm, but Adam couldn't see it clearly with all the movement.

One of them stood on each side of him, holding his arms, and one stood behind him. Two of the remaining three were flanking his buyer, and the final guard had crossed the room and was opening a door. The guards who held him started walking him towards it. He tried to resist, dug his feet in, but the man behind him just gave him a solid shove in the back, which sent him stumbling forward.

The room they took him into was startlingly clinical. It was long and narrow, stretching off to both sides. Adam looked around nervously. The walls and surfaces were white, and counters ran along the wall with the door with cuboards above and below. Toward the middle of the left end of the room there was a chair that was equipped with restraints for both arms and legs, and on the right there was something that resembled an examination table. It, too, had restraints. It made him sick to his stomach just to look at it.

They took him straight into the room and turned him around, facing the door. Adam's new 'owner' was still robed, and she came into the room followed by the remaining guards. At a gesture from their master, one of them went to a cabinet and pulled something heavy out of it. Two somethings, rather, for he handed one of them off to another of the guards. The pair of them walked over and knelt down on either side of Adam, who started to back away. As he started to move, however, the guard behind him placed his hands firmly on Adam's shoulders, holding him in place.

"Let me go!" the prince growled, starting to fight back, but another guard was approaching from the front. Adam kicked him, but the man barely seemed to notice, coming on until he was too close for Adam to get any real force behind an attack. The prince was breathing hard, absolutely terrified. His eyes darted to the figure of his purchaser, who was watching silently. _What is she going to do with me?_

The guard removed the manacles that Evil-Lyn had placed on him, holding his wrists firmly. From each side of him, the guards on the floor handed up the chains they had attached to rings set into the tile there.

The chains were wrapped in dark blue velvet and ended in velvet-lined manacles. They locked him into them, then tightened the chains so that his arms were held straight, and slightly out from his sides.

His 'owner' still stood watching all of this, not moving, not speaking. All the prince could tell about that individual was that she appeared to be slightly taller than he was and not very big around.

When his arms were bound securely, the guards stepped back to space themselves evenly around the walls, standing with blank expressions, eyes forward. Their mindless stares made Adam's flesh creep. Not one of them had shown the slightest hint of an expression since their faces had been revealed. It was more than a little disturbing.

Had his father realized that he and Teela were missing yet? Was Teela all right? Beastman and Trap Jaw had left her behind in the Evergreen Forest, bound and helpless. Would the others find her before some animal made a meal of her? He turned his thoughts resolutely away. They would find her, Teela would get free. He knew that. _And there's certainly nothing I can do about it,_ he thought hopelessly.

The person who had purchased him in that bizarre and alarming auction walked around behind him. Adam craned his neck to watch her, but there was nothing to see. Whoever – whatever – it was simply looked at him from all sides.

When the person came around front again, she stopped and raised one hand in an imperious gesture. The nearest of the zombie-like guards stepped forward. He reached up and removed the cloak enshrouding her, revealing Adam's new 'owner.'

It was, in fact, a woman, as he'd surmised. He gulped. She was not a woman who made him think of Evil-Lyn who was a warrior, always prepared for battle. This woman was wearing a pale blue velvet gown that followed every curve of her body. He flushed and averted his eyes, suddenly all too aware of her femininity. So strong was this sense of allure that he wondered if there was some kind of spell at work.

Her gown was cut low on her bosom, and her breasts, though small, were well shaped and firm. Her figure was slender for her height, and she was, he would have guessed, at least ten years older than he was. Her hair hung in shining brown curls. Adam gulped. _What does she want with me?_

When she saw his reaction she chuckled and walked towards him. "Good evening, Prince Adam," she said, standing directly before him. She was tall enough that she had to angle her head just slightly down to look at him. Her lips were at his eye level. _Why am I thinking about her lips?_ he wondered helplessly.

She put one hand on his bare shoulder and lifted his chin with her other. "Aren't you going to greet me, Prince Adam?" she asked, smiling. "I'm certain your father taught you better than that."

The prince licked his lips. "Good evening," he said, his voice squeaking.

"That's better. Now, I'm sure you're curious as to why you're here." Adam nodded nervously. "Well, I have a purpose for you. A very simple purpose, and one which you will accomplish by your very nature." Then she paused, her hand dropping from his chin to his chest, and she stroked the skin there.

"What purpose?" Adam asked, gulping.

"Now that would be telling," she said, tapping him playfully on the nose, a mischievous twinkle in her hazel eyes. "Worry not, young man, I'll tell you when you've fulfilled it."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll guess," he said, grimacing. "Isn't that when you'll kill me?"

She laughed, a light trilling sound that set his teeth on edge. "I have no intention of killing you, my boy. What fun would that be?" Adam blinked at her, wondering if she was telling the truth, and what Skeletor might do . . . of course if she simply never let him go, it wouldn't matter much, would it? He shook his head. His father would find him. Man-at-Arms would find him. They wouldn't leave him here. Wherever here was. He glanced around the room. There were no windows, but it looked as if there was a translucent skylight above.

Allowing one of her hands to trail along the skin of his chest and shoulder, she walked around behind him again. Once there, she slipped her arms around him from the back, stroking his pectorals . . . and other things . . .

Adam shivered. "What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice unsteady with nerves.

The sound she made in his ear could only be called a giggle. "Can't you tell?" she asked, then nibbled lightly on his ear, causing him to jerk with surprise. "Oh, Adam," she said in an amused tone, "don't tell me that at nearly seventeen you're still a virgin!"

Adam flushed hotly, and the woman let out a low laugh. "Who are you?" he asked, forcing his voice to sound as normal as possible.

"You may call me Davi," she said.

"Fine,"Adam growled. "But who are you? A name isn't who you are."

She bit his earlobe and tugged on it playfully with her teeth. "So serious, Adam! A name is what you get."

"What are you going to do with me?" he asked.

"Why, play with you, of course!" she replied with malicious glee. "I've just bought myself a new toy! You can hardly think I'm going to put it on a shelf just yet."

Adam's back stiffened into rigidity. "My father and the masters will come for me," he said.

"Oh yes, I'm sure of that. But they won't be able to find us." She drew her fingernails up the sensitive skin on his sides and then down again. He shivered again. "No one will ever be able to find us." As she said that last sentence, her fingers found the clasp at the front of his pants and undid it. Adam tried to pull away but there was nowhere to go.

"Stop that!" he yelled as she slid his pants down around his ankles, neatly hobbling him. He started to kick out, but she skipped nimbly back.

"Oh dear, I knew I'd forgotten something!" she said, a laugh in her voice. She swiftly left the room. Adam had no choice but to wait for her. He tried the chains but they were too strong for him to break without becoming He-Man, and his sword was still back at Snake Mountain. _How are we going to retrieve it?_ he wondered.

So now he stood in the middle of a room that resembled nothing so much as a medical lab, bound to the floor, wearing only his underwear and boots, his pants pooled around his ankles, surrounded by guards. What would Teela say if she came upon him in this situation? He shuddered to think . . .

The door opened again and Davi dame back in. She held what looked like a wide band of silvery metal mesh in her hands. She walked around behind him and wrapped it around his throat, fastening it in back. It fit loosely, resting at the base of his neck, not constraining his movements at all. The strands of interwoven metal were cold, but warmed at the touch of his skin.

"What is that?" he asked. It felt smooth against his skin, and he wondered what it's purpose was.

"It's a collar, Adam, can't you tell?" she replied, kissing him lightly on the neck just above the fastening. "It signifies your new status as my pet." Adam ground his teeth. _I am no one's pet!_ "In addition, it will knock you out painlessly at a single thought from me."

Adam digested this information. "Oh," he said simply. _Handy for her . . ._

"Think of it as a training device," she said, walking around to face him again, tracing the line of his jaw with her forefinger. He pulled away, wishing she'd stop touching him. Crossing her arms, she gazed at him cheerfully. "Since it's thought controlled, you'd have to knock me out with a single unexpected blow." Adam glared at her and she grinned. Wandering over to one of her guards, she said, "You'd never attack me, though, would you, Adam?" _Just give me a chance!_ he thought, fists clenching. The tendons and bones of his wrists moved against the cuffs, bringing home his helpless position. "Besides," she purred, stroking down the bare chest and abdomen of her guard, "that's what these gentlemen are here to prevent." The young man stood stolidly, not even seeming to notice her touch.

"They seem very disciplined," Adam observed neutrally, forcing himself to seem calm.

"They are," she assured him. "A combination of drugs and spells keeps them that way." He grimaced, trying – and failing – to hide his dismay.

"Don't worry, Adam, you won't wind up like this," she said, stroking the apparently oblivious guard's cheek. "My plans for you are different," she continued, her eyes caressing him. He looked away, feeling utterly demoralized. "Very different, and when I've completed your training, you will be none the worse for wear." As she spoke, she started moving again, and he turned back, wanting to stay aware of where she was. She crossed the room towards him, a smug expression on her face. She stopped right in front of him and looked into his eyes. "Of course, you won't be a virgin anymore," she added. Adam felt his skin grow hot.

"Why would you want to do that?" he asked. "I'm nothing special."

She leaned in and kissed his lips lightly, despite his attempt to pull out of reach. "Allow me to disagree," she murmured, placing her hands on his chest and stroking down to the waistband of his underpants. Loosening the button, she let them drop to his feet. Davi glanced down, then smiled into his humiliated face. "Modesty is a becoming trait in a young man," she said. "But I'd say you're very special indeed, Prince Adam."


	3. Loss of Innocence

**Note: I inadvertently left out a section of this chapter. My apologies for the confusion.**

**Chapter 3 - Loss of Innocence**

He could tell that he had to have turned beet red, and he could not believe that he was standing in the middle of this room, stark naked except for his boots, with a beautiful woman holding him captive. Oddly, he recalled one of the palace guards describing a similar incident having occurred in a dream. The guard had seemed to think it was a good thing.

Davi stepped back and glanced at her guards. "Take him to the bathing chamber and get him prepared, then bring him to my bed chamber." Looking back at him over her shoulder, she added, "Use the green, I think."

She left, then, without a backward glance. The six guards approached Adam expressionlessly and unbound his wrists, taking him out into the circular room and through yet another door into a bathing chamber. He stepped out of his pants unwillingly and went with them. When they withdrew to the walls again, he was grateful, but he had a suspicion that if he didn't bathe himself in pretty short order, they'd bathe him themselves.

The only available soaps had soft, floral scents, but Adam just grimaced and washed. As he did so, he reached up and felt the collar she'd put on him, trying to ascertain just how to remove it. There didn't, however, appear to be a seam that he could locate. _Magic, no doubt._ He made a few unsuccessful attempts to engage the guards in conversation, then gave it up. A combination of drugs and magic would make anyone less than talkative.

While he had bathed, they had removed his boots and socks from the room, leaving a pale blue robe of very thin silk draped over the back of a chair. Adam scowled at it, but it was better than nothing. Adam pulled it on and tied it closed. As soon as he had done that, they guards formed up around him again. He expected to be bound, but they didn't touch him. As soon as they were out of the bathing chamber, Adam took advantage of this seeming oversight.

He shoved the guys to the right of him, and while the others were scrambling towards him, he dodged through and dashed to the entry door. _Maybe, just maybe, if I can get outside, I can get the Sorceress' attention and she'll send rescue._

He reached the door and flung it open, only to find that he was facing a blank wall. He gaped at it, frozen in place. This, then, was the explanation for that strange feeling of disorientation and the faint grinding noise he'd heard just after the door had been shut the first time. This whole room must turn like a wheel, covering some doors and opening others. With no windows in the side walls, the movement wasn't obvious. It was a brilliantly designed prison. A closely monitored captive would have little chance for escape.

The guards grabbed his arms and turned him around. He dug in his heels, but they pulled him forward regardless. "Do you know how nuts this is?" he demanded desperately.

They behaved as if they hadn't heard, and for all he knew they hadn't. They merely continued to drag him along with them back into the lab room. He pulled back desperately as they dragged him toward the left end of the room – and the chair. Despite his renewed struggles, they settled him down into the seat and strapped him in. As soon as he was bound, five of the six guards spread out along the walls. The sixth went to a cupboard and opened the door. Adam gazed apprehensively at the rows and rows of glass jars that filled most of the shelves. There were many different colors, one of which was green. He gulped.

Picking up a syringe from the lowest shelf, the guard selected one of the green glass vials. He inserted it deftly into the syringe, depressed the plunger so that there were no air pockets, then turned toward the prince who stared in horror as the young man approached.

The guard's face was passionless as Adam started to babble. "What does that do? What is it? Please don't! No, please stop!" Adam struggled in earnest against the restraints, all to no effect.

A moment later, hands descended from all sides onto his shoulders, onto his arms, onto his legs, holding him steady while the sixth guard placed the needle carefully into Adam's arm and shot the plunger home. There was a brief sting and a sense of cool inflow. The syringe was removed and the guard wiped up the few drops of blood that welled up. Adam relaxed against the back of the chair, all too aware that there was nothing he could do about the drug that was now in his system. Further struggling would only hasten its effects.

As the tension left him, the guards drew back against the walls. The fellow with the syringe disposed of the tool and bottle in a closed container, and then turned to another cupboard.

Adam groaned and leaned his head back against the head rest of the chair. _What now?_ he wondered. They seemed to have this process worked out to a science, and he began to wonder how many times Davi had done this.

The guard walked around behind him and lifting Adam's head slightly, removed the head rest from the chair. Adam started to crane his neck to see what the fellow was up to, but firm hands pointed his face forward again. He was utterly shocked when the man started drawing a comb through his hair. When the tangles were removed, he began working some kind of sweet smelling stuff into it. Then he combed through it again. When this was done, he dried Adam's hair with some kind of warm air gun.

_Prepare him, she said,_ Adam thought and began to flush again. When his hair was dry, they stood him up and walked him out of the room. Adam was beginning to feel decidedly peculiar. His mind, which was starting to panic, seemed detached from his body, and his skin was growing very sensitive. He could feel a flood of sensation as the silk of the robe shifted against him. It was disconcerting and distracting.

He strove to maintain some form of mental focus, but that was destroyed completely when he entered the bed chamber. Davi stood just inside, clad only in a translucent robe of floaty teal silk. Her hair cascaded down her back and her eyes were hot and hungry – and focused on him.

The door shut. There was a grinding sound, and Adam knew that they were sealed in, for there were no other visible exits. The guards, as was becoming routine, spaced themselves around the perimeter of the room. _She must have an incredible amount of confidence in their conditioning._

Adam's heart was pounding in his ears. For one long moment, no one moved. The Davi started toward him. She gave off a spicy scent that made him weak in the knees.

Taking him by the hands, she smiled at him and backed up, leading him toward what was the centerpiece of the room, a large, low, circular bed. At least he thought it was a bed. Adam pulled his hands out of hers and stopped moving forward.

"This is insane!" he exclaimed, backing away.

She smiled and walked toward him. "There's no point in resisting, Adam, you'll give in soon enough."

"How about we wait till then!" Adam suggested desperately. His back hit the wall and she was so close in front of him that he couldn't dodge around her without knocking her over. She smiled at him and kept coming closer until they were touching all along the lengths of their bodies. He felt very strange, his body responding in ways that seemed very unfamiliar to him.

"Give in to your senses, Adam," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "It will be very pleasant." She kissed him on the other cheek. "After all, you're being offered what every young man wants, sex with no strings, no attachments, and with a very experienced partner."

Adam was trembling, but the chemicals in his system were breaking down his ability to resist, and his body was responding.

She paused, eyes on his, and placed her hands on his cheeks. "You're mine, at least for now," she said softly, and began to kiss him thoroughly, nibbling on his lips. After a few moments, her tongue probed between his lips. Rational thought vanished, leaving one part of him gibbering in panicked terror while the part that was in control surrendered him to sensation.

* * *

Adam lay on the scented bed, exhausted and alone. Davi had fed him after they'd coupled multiple times – he had no idea how many – then she'd left again. There were no guards in the room with him, but he had no energy to move.

A pet she had called him, and she'd fed him like one, little morsels of food given to him by hand. He'd eaten because he had seen little point in starving himself. Misery and self-loathing filled him. He hadn't fought against her, he hadn't tried to get away, he'd simply lain there on the bed and let her do as she liked. _What's wrong with me?_

He rolled over onto his side, gazing at the privy across the room.

_That can wait till morning, _he thought, then fell into the sleep of the profoundly weary.

* * *

They had been going over this for hours. There was footage of fifty-two people entering Snake Mountain in black robes, and of fifty-three people leaving again, but they were having trouble agreeing on which party the extra person had joined.

"It was this one," Mekanek said firmly, pointing.

"I hope not," Duncan said, "because we lose that one almost as soon as they leave the screen."

"I think it's this one," Manny said, pointing at another one. Unfortunately, the resolution on the images wasn't high, a fact for which Duncan had apologized repeatedly, to the point where Randor had told him to shut up about it.

"The one that headed off to the South Continent?" Ram-Man asked.

"Yeah," Manny said. "I think –"

"Well, I hope it's not that one," Mekanek said, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he gazed at the screen. "Because we have no authority on the South Continent. The few attempts we've made have –"

"That doesn't matter," Stratos said. "We're seeking the Crown Prince of Eternia. There's not a nation on this planet that won't help us, because there's not a nation on this planet that doesn't have heirs that might be vulnerable to Skeletor's attack. This won't be viewed kindly."

"I think you may be overestimating the case a bit, Stratos," Duncan said. They all fell silent, staring at the scene as it replayed over and over again.

"Mek's right," Randor said suddenly. He hadn't spoken since he'd ordered Duncan to stop apologizing for the quality of the video feed over an hour ago. They all turned and stared at him.

"Sire?" Man-at-Arms said after a moment of silence.

"Run it back and zoom in on that one vehicle." Duncan followed his orders. "Zoom a little more, go back a little further in time, to just before they get into the vehicle. There, now freeze. Do you see that one, the shortest of them, how the sleeves are flapping in the breeze?" They all nodded. "Just like someone who's been bundled into a robe with his hands still tied in front of him." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "That's Adam."

Duncan narrowed his eyes and bent to his machinery again. He fiddled a bit, then brought up two images side by side, of that vehicle arriving and of it leaving. "I'm not clear that there are more people in there when it leaves than there were when it arrived," he said, and Randor could see his point. There were two clear figures in the front seat, a pilot and one other, but in the back seat, the figures blended together in both shots.

"Can you run it so that we can see how many get in and out?" Randor asked.

They did, but it was still unclear, except for those sleeves flapping in the breeze in the departure shot. Manny nodded slowly. "You know, unless that guy is doing some kind of strange dance, I think the king and Mekanek have got to be right."

"I concur," Stratos said.

"Well, then all we gotta do is find them, right?" Ram-Man said. "And then we've got Adam."

"The trouble there is that they turn and fly straight into Eternia," Duncan said. "At your request, sire, I have almost no cameras covering the interior of our nation, so it's going to be difficult to trace where they went next."

"Does that mean that these bad guys have their base in Eternia?" Ram-Man asked.

"Either that or they flew through Eternia to get to their base," Mekanek said thoughtfully. "There are cameras at the borders, though, right?" Duncan nodded. "So, could we have someone like Roboto or Man-E-Robot go through all the footage for the hours following this and see if they can catch sight of the ship on its way out of Eternia? They can look faster than we can."

"Right," Man-E-Faces said. "If we split up the footage, and then swap, we'll double our chances of finding them."

"Excellent plan, Mekanek," Duncan said.

"And in the meantime," Randor said, "this was a very small, select group of people. We've managed to follow some of them to their lairs, and I would imagine that each of them has a pretty good idea of just who else was invited to that little party. I'll wager that if we visit with some of them, we'll be able to get a few answers."

"We?" Duncan said, opening his mouth to raise some objection, but Randor shook his head, raising a hand to forestall him.

"I'm going, Duncan, and that's final. There are four clearly identified places to check out, you take a team and I'll take a team. That will cut our time in half."

"Man-at-Arms?" Stratos said.

"Yes?"

"If there is some way that you could create an image on paper or some other medium, I could go out and see if I can find any of the flying folk who might have seen the vessel go by, either Andrenids or Avions. And perhaps those on the ground. It is possible that someone will recognize it and that might give us a hint as to its final destination."

"Very good, Stratos," Randor said. "Is there some way to do that?"

Duncan was already at work at his console, and a moment later he turned around with a small black box. Pressing a button on its side, he caused an image to be projected upwards in three dimensions. It was the vessel, and how he'd gotten it to do that so quickly, Randor had no idea. "This was sort of a toy I had been working on, thinking that I might find an application for it, but other things have swept it aside," Duncan said. "But it should work for this, I would think."

"Admirably," Stratos said. "I will find a partner and start my search."

"I think Rammy and I should go with Randor," Mekanek said, giving Duncan a meaningful look. "That leaves –"

Teela strode into the room, followed by Marlena. Randor went to his wife's side. Telling her that he had returned without Adam had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but, far from breaking down, she had grown steely with determination. She took his hand and squeezed.

"I've been released from the infirmary, and I'm ready for duty," Teela announced. There were neat bandages around her wrists.

"Okay," Mek said, glancing over at Duncan, who nodded. "That leaves Teela, Sy-Klone and Buzz Off."

"I can help!" A red blur came zipping in. "Please let me help!"

"Orko, I –" Duncan started, but he broke off.

Randor looked at the Trollan jester. "Do you know where He-Man is?"

Orko's eyes widened. "I – um – no, I don't."

"Do you even have any idea where to start looking?" Seeming unaccountably nervous, the jester didn't speak, he just sort of stuttered incomprehensibly.

Marlena took a step towards him, putting a hand on his arm. "It's all right if you don't know, Orko," she said gently.

"I don't," he said, his head drooping, and Marlena squeezed his arm comfortingly.

Randor turned to Duncan, only to find that his man-at-arms had gone blank, his eyes staring ahead without focus. Teela was gazing worriedly up at her father. Randor took his arm and started shaking. "Duncan? Duncan?"

* * *

"Orko, I –" Duncan started, but he was distracted by a mental call. _"Man-at-Arms, He-Man is needed. What has happened to Prince Adam?"_ The Sorceress sounded more than a little worried.

"_Adam was captured and then sold by Skeletor. We haven't located him yet. You can't contact him?"_

"_No, there is a barrier,"_ she replied. _"And Skeletor is here at Grayskull in force, attempting to break in."_

"_Can you hold him off?" _he asked. She paused, and Duncan became aware that his arm was being shaken.

"Duncan, what's going on?" Randor demanded.

"The Sorceress, Grayskull is under attack."

"Hell and damnation!" Randor thundered. "Where is He-Man?"

Duncan stared at his king, and he could see Orko jittering beside him. "I don't know, your majesty. Orko, go to Grayskull and offer the Sorceress what help you can."

"You want _me_ to go to Grayskull?" Orko exclaimed.

"Yes," Duncan said firmly. "She may be able to tell you how to find He-Man. In the meantime, we have got to find Adam before he's killed or . . ."

"Right," Randor said before he managed to find an end to his sentence. "Can Orko and the Sorceress manage to defend Grayskull on their own, though?"

"_Duncan, I have heard all that has been said,"_ the Sorceress said. _"Send Orko to me, and I will call Zodak. It will have to be enough. Find Adam. Without him, all is for naught."_

"_Yes, Sorceress."_ He turned to Orko. "She's expecting you." The little jester nodded, gulped, and flitted off. "She says she'll call Zodak if she and Orko can't manage," Duncan said to Randor.

"Good. Then let's move out," Randor said. "It's nearly dawn, so we have the whole day to search. Duncan, you take Teela and Sy-Klone and go to . . ." Duncan didn't like the plan but he listened, and he agreed. What more could happen?

* * *

Adam woke up uncertain of the time. This bed chamber had no windows at all, not even a skylight, so he couldn't tell when it was. It could be morning or midafternoon. He rolled off the bed and went into the privy, feeling very odd and itchy. The drugs that had so taken control of him the night before had clearly not completely left his system, and they were making him very uncomfortable.

His mind had been fogged by the drugs, just enough to remove his ability to think and resist, but not sufficiently to block his memory of the events of the night before. One sex act had led into another without stopping for what seemed like hours, and he had not been able to object or resist. He shuddered, trying not to think about it. Whatever Davi thought, unfettered sex with a total stranger was not this young man's desire.

There was no tub in this chamber, just a simple privy, and Adam wondered why. He walked out into the bedroom and looked around, seeking some form of weapon. He might not be able to get away, but he was definitely not going to give in tamely. As he examined the space, he began to realize something. This room was designed as a prison. A very soft and gentle prison, but a prison nonetheless. Which explained the lack of a bathtub. She didn't want her unwilling guests to have any access to anything that might offer escape in any form. The hangings were attached to the walls by magic, and the bed had no sheets, just soft satiny upholstery.

He realized abruptly that he had been wandering around the room naked for some minutes, and flushed despite the fact that no one could see him, at least, he didn't think anyone could. For all he knew there was something like a doomseeker in here, disguised as a cushion or a lamp, and his every movement was being observed.

_How am I going to get out of here?_ he wondered. He heard the grinding of the outer room turning and whirled, looking for a way to cover himself. The privy didn't even have a door. The outer door opened before he found a solution to his problem, but it wasn't Davi. It was the six guards, and they didn't even seem to look at him except as an object to be moved from place to place. Two of them approached him and took his arms.

Adam allowed himself to be grabbed. He had nowhere to run, no way to stop them. They took him through the circular room and into the bathing chamber. Once inside, they placed themselves along the edges of the room, and Adam heard the grinding of the central room moving again.

Wading into the tub, Adam got himself cleaned up, hoping to find at least a robe in the chair again. When he got out, he pulled on the soft robe that was waiting for him. He stood waiting and the guards formed up around him again, all but one, who walked over and placed his hand flat on a panel to the side of the door. After a second, he heard Davi's voice.

"Is he cleaned up?"

"Yes, my lady," the man said, his voice deep but blank of expression.

"Then finish his preparations. Blue, this time, I think."

Adam flinched as the guard turned toward him. He heard the central room grinding, and the door opened. They took him through into the clinical room, and they were sealed in again. Adam expected them to take him to the chair, but they didn't. They took him over to the examination table, and one of the guards behind him took the robe at the shoulders and started to slide it off him.

Adam caught it in his hands and tried to hang on to it, but there were still six of them. They wrestled him onto the table, face down, and strapped him down. The table was padded, with an odd hole in the surface, apparently for the face of the victim. When the guards were done, he couldn't move more than a quarter inch in any direction.

He began to shake as he heard the cupboard doors behind him being opened. He couldn't even turn his head to look and see what was being done.

"What are you doing?" he asked desperately, but no one answered him. He struggled vainly against the bonds that held him. A guard leaned against his back, pressing him firmly down and then stuck the needle in his arm. Adam flinched, wondering what new potion was being pumped into him, or if it was the same one. _She said blue, though, so probably not. _He couldn't even see that.

A moment later, he heard the other cupboard being opened. He could hear the footsteps coming back towards him, and he flinched away as they stopped. Something cold and viscous was dribbled on his back, and then the guard started rubbing it in, massaging as he went. It was a very impersonal attention, but Adam felt utterly humiliated. He wondered if there was some significance to this lotion, or if it was just meant to make him smell good for Davi. When his back side was finished, four of the other guards came over and unbound him from the table, flipping him over. He was beginning to feel very woozy and disconnected again, but not so disconnected that he didn't feel hideously embarrassed to be lying naked and strapped to a table. They inserted a little cushion under his head over the face-hole, and then they stepped back. The lead guard – Adam wanted names for all these men – put more lotion on Adam's chest and began, quite methodically and mechanically, to cover the front half of him with it.

Adam closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was elsewhere, but closing his eyes prove to be a poor choice. He began to feel like he was floating in a sea of peculiar colors that played on his eyelids. He flipped his eyes open again, and the world was spinning slightly. He heard the central room grinding again and the door opened, admitting Davi.

He strained against the bonds holding his arms down, trying to cover himself, though there hardly seemed to be much of a point. She'd seen him plenty last night, but it felt wrong to just lie there with her gazing at him. "Good morning, Adam," she said, smiling at him. She walked over to stand by his head and stroked his hair. "How long has he had the blue in his system, now?" she asked.

"Twenty minutes."

"Good, he'll be properly ready soon. In the meantime, I have something else I'd like to do." Adam watched her walk over to a smaller cupboard and, taking a key out of a locket around her neck, open it up. Reaching in, she pulled out a few items. "Get him into the chair," she said, "and immobilize his right arm."

The guards got him off the table, and despite his attempts to struggle, they strapped him into the chair. The seat felt cold against his bare skin. The lead guard pulled an odd contraption out of another cupboard and attached it to the arm of the chair. "What are you doing?" Adam asked.

"Marking you, Adam, as my property."

"How?" he asked, his heart skipping a beat. He couldn't see precisely what she was doing.

"You'll see," she replied.

The guard placed his arm in the device which held it so firmly that he couldn't shift at all. It was padded, and not overly painful, but the complete immobility alarmed Adam to an enormous degree. "Please, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice wobbling slightly.

She turned, smiling, an object in her hand that was glowing with heat. Adam's eyes widened. "I told you, sweet thing, I'm marking you as my property." She walked over and knelt down beside him. He stared in shocked horror at the glowing object. It had some sort of pattern on it, but he had trouble making it out. The drug was beginning to blur his vision. It was also, as before, heightening the sensitivity of his skin.

Davi carefully positioned the – _say it, Adam, it's a brand_ – brand at the side of his right bicep, and he could feel the heat of it on his skin. He turned his head away, not wanting to watch, and grit his teeth to keep from begging her to stop. "Ready?" she asked cheerfully, and then she pressed the brand against his arm.

Despite his attempt to be stoic, he let out a scream of agony. His skin was now so sensitive that the burn hurt beyond all expectations. He tried desperately to pull away, but the restraining device was solid and held him firmly in place. After a moment, she withdrew the brand from his skin and handed it off to one of the guards. She blew lightly on the burn, and said, "There, that will be a lasting sign that you are mine, something you can look at and remember."

"Bitch!" he spat.

"My goodness, that was heartfelt," she said, smiling and walking around in front of him. "Trevor, give him a local anesthetic, would you?" The lead guard went to the drug cabinet while Davi reached out and stroked Adam's cheek. "You are precious, Adam. I wouldn't want you to get lost."

He glared at her as she drew back. "My father will kill you," he growled.

"He'll have to find me first, and I promise you, that won't be easy." She laughed merrily and left the room. "Bring him once the drug's in full effect."

There was a slight pinprick as Trevor gave him the anesthetic, and then, after a moment, he returned with some sort of salve. The guards all had some kind of mark on their arms, but Adam hadn't looked at it closely before. He looked at Trevor's arm to see if it was the same mark, but his vision was now so blurry that he couldn't make it out. The guards released the bonds on the chair after another ten or so minutes and guided him through the central room back to the bed chamber where Adam found breakfast – and Davi – waiting.


	4. Revelations

Note: I made an error in my initial post of the previous chapter. For those of you who read it within hours of my posting it, you should go back and re-read. To be sure whether you do or don't need to go back, if you remember there being a scene in which Duncan speaks mentally to the Sorceress, you have read the full chapter. If not . . . go back. Sorry for the confusion. eidz

**Chapter 4 – Revelations **

Randor stalked out of the room, furious with himself for losing his temper. Tonogrom had been rude, smarmy and condescending – and utterly unhelpful, just as Bemvar had been. Ram-Man was close on his heels as he walked toward the wind raider, but when they reached the vehicle, Mekanek wasn't with them.

"Should I go back?" Ram-Man asked, but then he shook his head and answered his own question. "No, I hafta stay with you."

They waited for a few moments, and Randor was just preparing to draw his sword and go find his missing comrade when Mekanek came out, grinning and jumped into the wind raider. "Let's go, sire," he said. "Time's a'wasting."

Randor climbed in beside him, and Ram-Man got into the back seat, and Mekanek took off. "What kept you?" the king asked.

"I thought I'd hang back and point a few things out to our good friend back there," Mekanek said, his lips twitching with amusement.

"Such as?"

"Well, I did mention that he had no percentage in protecting the person who beat him out in the auction."

"And . . ."

"And he started grumbling that he thought he'd only been invited to increase the number of people who would be leaving at the same time because there was no way he had enough money to outbid people like Grenalo and Barcom."

Randor raised his eyebrows. They'd picked up on Barcom, but Grenalo they hadn't realized was there at all. "So, shall we stop by Grenalo's headquarters?" he suggested.

"Um . . ." Mekanek said. "I think we'd better meet up with Man-at-Arms like we arranged, your highness. He was uncomfortable with this arrangement as things were, and I think I'd like to have a little more firepower behind me if we go beard Grenalo in his den."

Like Tonogrom, Grenalo was a warlord on the South Continent, but one with a much larger following. "You're probably right," Randor said regretfully.

"Besides, I don't think Grenalo has Adam, even if he was smart enough to fly through Eternia on his way back home."

"Why's that?"

"Tonogrom slipped when I was asking him questions," Mek said, grinning as he banked towards the meeting place.

"Slipped?"

"Yeah. He said, 'I think she outbid her nearest competitor by miles.'"

Randor nodded slowly. "So the one we're after is a woman," he said slowly. "That should narrow the field considerably. What powerful woman have I crossed?"

"There've been a few, Randor," Mekanek said.

"Like that Daviona woman?" Rammy said from the back seat. "Or Genevra?"

Randor turned. "Genevra is a distinct possibility," he said. "But I doubt Daviona would bid a million gold crowns just to get back at me for not sleeping with her twenty-five years ago. Genevra I stopped from taking over her brother's duchy from her young niece."

* * *

Davi stroked Adam's chest as he lay, worn out, on the bed. _What is she?_ he wondered. _Some kind of inexhaustible demon?_ "Are you enjoying yourself, sweet thing?"

"No," Adam said, dredging up enough energy to roll away. "Are you done?" He sat up on the edge of the bed, facing away from her.

She crawled over to him and draped herself along his back. "For today, I am. I can only absorb so much. You have a great deal of magical energy in you. I wonder why."

"What?" Adam asked, his brows knitting. "What are you talking about?"

"You're an incredibly potent source of magical energy, quite apart from being an extremely enjoyable plaything."

He stood up. "I need to use the privy," he said. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," she said, leaning back on the bed. He'd been expecting that she would leave, but clearly he was going to be disappointed. He went into the privy and tried to pretend she couldn't see right in if she so chose. When he walked out again, she was still on the bed. His vision was still blurry about the edges, but the itching was starting, so the drug was clearly wearing off. Absently, he reached up and scratched his shoulder.

He felt a sudden pinprick in his arm and looked over to find that Davi was right beside him, a syringe in her hand. He felt the inrush of the drug as she pressed the plunger. "What? I thought you said you were done."

"Well, I can't absorb any more magical energy myself, but there's no saying I can't put it into a reservoir to use later," she said, kissing his back and nibbling on his neck.

Having the first dose still in his system evidently made a new dose affect him more quickly, for he began to feel very disconnected from his body. Her hands were all over his chest and his abdomen. He resisted as long as he could, but the drug was too powerful.

Hours later, he lay on the bed, utterly drained and alone. Maybe the power she claimed that she was stealing from him was what was keeping her energy so unflagging, but she had bounced out of here the minute he collapsed, unable to even move.

_Father? Are you coming?_ He lay, physically worn out but mentally active for awhile before he finally fell asleep.

* * *

Duncan had firmly vetoed an unannounced visit to Grenalo's holding. Instead, they had contacted the man and asked for a meeting on neutral ground. Thus, dawn found them on a small island in the center of the Sea of Rakash. Stratos and Buzz Off were flying reconnaissance, and they had a squad of the guard with them. Randor gazed at the vehicles that were approaching.

Grenalo's ship, which they had seen on the video but not recognized, landed forty yards away and the man himself, a short, slender fellow whom one would not expect to find as a warlord, crossed the space between them with his lieutenants at his side.

"So, Randor, lost your son, I see," Grenalo said as he reached them. "He did look terrified up there on that block."

Randor pulled himself up short of snatching his sword out of its sheath and smashing it through that smirking face. Duncan stepped forward and said, "We were hoping you had information about who else might have attended that little function."

"If I do, it will cost you," Grenalo said, his smirk growing broader. "After all, your boy proved to have quite a high price at auction. You'll have to give me at least half that amount for me to tell you anything."

"A half million crowns?" Mekanek exclaimed in protest. "You're crazy!"

"Isn't Prince Adam worth it?" Grenalo asked slyly.

Mekanek spluttered, and Randor said, "I'm not about to give that amount of money without knowing the quality of information I'd be getting."

Grenalo turned aside to one of the large men beside him and nodded. The man reached into his jacket and pulled out –

Abruptly, Mekanek leapt forward and brought his mace down on the man's hand, and they could all hear the massive crack as his bone broke. A deadly looking blaster pistol fell to the ground from the man's hand. At that same moment, Grenalo's men broke ranks and swarmed across. The warlord himself dropped back, grinning as he watched the mayhem.

Randor drew his sword and fought off the other burly lieutenant, and as he downed the man, he saw that air vehicles were approaching. Fortunately, Duncan had been concerned about just such an event and had wind raiders poised just beyond sensor distance.

Focusing his ire on Grenalo, Randor slashed through all resistance, approaching the smaller man who drew his own sword, a wicked-looking blade, and launched himself at his throat. Randor blocked his blow, but they were locked face to face for a moment. "I'll kill you, Randor, then I'll take your kingdom and your pretty queen –" Letting out a growl of pure rage, Randor thrust him off. The verbal expression of his anger cooled him off and he glared at Grenalo through narrowed eyes.

He feinted and was blocked, then whirled and slammed the warlord with a backhanded blow that swept his head from his shoulders and sent it flying across the field. As his foe's body dropped to the ground, Randor raised his voice. "Surrender now or pay the price your master paid!"

A few of Grenalo's men elected to fight to the death, but most of them surrendered when it was clear that their leader was dead. Randor wiped his blade and left the clean up to the lieutenant in charge of the guard squad.

"Your highness," Mekanek called, "I think I may have something for you."

The man whose drawn weapon had started the battle was still alive, for Mekanek had simply smashed his arms with his mace, effectively removing him from the fight. A medic was seeing to his wounds, but Mekanek had clearly been questioning him.

Randor walked over and stood waiting. "Tell him what you told me," Mekanek said.

The man looked fearfully up at the king. "I don't know much," he said. "But I can tell you the names of most of the guys that was there last night."

"All right," Randor said, crossing his arms expectantly.

He rattling them off. "Well, there was Tonogrom, Genevra, Bort, Shken, Scree and Barcom."

That's it?" The man nodded. "And who won?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, and that's the truth. The boss was furious. It was some woman, but there were three women there, and we didn't know two of them. I know it wasn't Genevra."

Randor sighed. "Thank you." He took the list Mekanek had given him.

"So, He-Man won't be paying me that visit?" the man asked as the king turned away.

"Naw, I'll let him know you helped," Mekanek said as he stood up to join Randor.

When they were out of earshot, Randor raised an eyebrow at his friend and subordinate. "What was that about He-Man?" he asked.

Mek shrugged. "I told him that He-Man's really fond of Adam, and that if he didn't talk and soon, He-Man might pay him a little visit in his cell. He seemed to not to want two broken legs."

"I see," Randor said, smiling a little. "And did He-Man figure at all in that private conversation you had with Tonogrom last night?"

Mekanek tilted his head. "Now that you mention it, he might have," the master said with a grin. "That a problem?"

Randor snorted. "Not so long as it keeps getting results. If He-Man gets annoyed at being used in that fashion, I'll make it right."

"Maybe he won't be annoyed," Mekanek suggested. "Maybe I'm telling the honest truth. I mean, you do get the impression that Adam talks to him an awful lot. Adam knows a lot about He-Man, and He-Man's always got something nice to say about the kid."

Randor nodded, sighing. _Where is Adam?_ he wondered desperately. _What is this strange woman doing to my son?_

"We'll get him back, sire," Mekanek said. "You have my word that we'll get him back and find the shrew that took him and deal with her."

"I know, Mek," Randor said. "I've always known I could count on you."

Duncan walked up. "Sire, I think we've done all we can here, if Mekanek has finished intimidating the prisoner."

"Yeah, I'm done," Mekanek said cheerfully.

Randor had a few words with the guard lieutenant while Duncan examined the list, then he, Duncan, Mekanek, Teela and Ram-Man climbed into the Wind Raider. The other masters returned either to their usual duties, or, as in the case of Stratos, to the attempt to locate the vessel that had carried Adam away.

* * *

Adam took as long about his bath as he dared on the second morning. The longer he took about getting ready, the longer it would be till he saw Davi again, or at least that was his reasoning. He didn't look at the brand on his arm, which was beginning to ache.

When Trevor started walking toward the tub, Adam rinsed his hair quickly and got out, drying himself off. He robed himself and walked with the guards into the clinic space. He could still feel the effects of the drug in his system, but she'd given him two doses yesterday. Maybe that made it hang on longer.

It had only been two days, but Adam was beginning to feel hopeless. His body felt strange. He was aware of every inch of his skin, and he had the strong suspicion that the drugs she was giving him were addictive to a fairly high degree. They took him once more to the examination table, but Adam didn't struggle. There didn't seem to be much point. He'd struggle and the six of them would put him where they wanted him, and that was that.

He was face down on the table and he heard the cupboard door open. He closed his eyes as he felt the needle enter his arm and the drug flowed in. Once again, Trevor began to rub lotion into his skin, and Adam searched for something abstract to focus on, something that he could distract himself with. As his body relaxed and the drug started taking hold, he found himself thinking about the fight he and Teela had had during their walk through the Evergreen Forest.

If only things could be different, if only he could tell her – just her – the truth, life would be so much pleasanter. As things stood right now, she would only get angrier and angrier at him for not being what she wanted him to be. It didn't help that he wouldn't have minded _being_ what she wanted him to be. Instead he had to pretend not care about anything, not to be interested in doing anything to solve the kingdom's problems . . . and he had to run away from every fight.

Life would never improve until Skeletor was gone and He-Man was no longer needed. Or would He-Man ever not be needed? Not everything He-Man was summoned for had anything to do with Skeletor. Adam groaned miserably.

"Why so downhearted, sweet thing?" a lilting voice asked, and he shuddered to hear her so close. Trevor stepped back and he could feel her hands take over the task of smoothing on the oil. "After all, things are quite nice here. You'll grow used to them, trust me."

"My father will come and get me," Adam said stubbornly.

"He's cast a net wide over the planet," she said. "He's been questioning people everywhere," she said, and Adam felt his heart quicken. _He'll find me – when my father sets his mind to something, he never fails._ "But he has no chance whatsoever of finding this place." She chuckled. "I'm very good at hiding." Adam bit his lip. _He'll find me,_ he thought, but it had less conviction. She'd been at this for awhile, he'd guess, and no one had found her yet. "Trevor, fetch that case out of my special cupboard."

"What are you doing to me now?" Adam asked.

"Never you mind, sweet thing, I'm just getting you ready for a day of play."

"How many times can one woman have sex with one man in one day?" he asked pathetically.

"We'll have to test that later, Adam," she said, kissing the back of his neck. "In the meantime . . . thank you, Trevor."

Adam couldn't tell what she was doing, though it seemed to involve a lot of fine movement with a slender implement on the skin of his lower back. Finally, she stopped and stepped back. "Finish his preparations, Trevor, and then bring him to me. I'm looking forward to today's entertainments."

Adam grimaced as the guard returned mechanically to his duty. They flipped him and Trevor started in on his front. The prince looked up at the guard, trying to see some sense in his eyes. She'd said he wouldn't wind up like them, but he wondered what that meant exactly, and what it meant that he had unexpected magical power in him that she could tap. If his father's search took too much longer, Adam might be a mindless slave to sensation when they rescued him. _I suppose they could marry me off and wait for the first child to come of age._

He grit his teeth. "I am not going to think that way!" he growled at the ceiling. "Father will come, and I will be fine."

"No one will come," Trevor said out of the blue. "No one ever comes."

Adam looked up at the other young man, but he seemed as mechanical as he had before. "Trevor?" Adam said.

"We all think that at first," Trevor said, and Adam found his stomach churning with nausea. It was eerie, seeing that expressionless face, hearing those words in that emotionless voice. "But no one comes."

"I didn't think you spoke," Adam said, staring up at him.

"You're not like us, though," he said. "You're too old, and she uses different drugs on you." Trevor finished up rubbing in the lotion and stepped back.

"We can get out," Adam said as the guards came forward and started releasing the restraints. "You know how to open the doors, right? We could escape!" Trevor didn't say anything, and it was impossible to guess whether he'd heard or not, because his expression had never changed. "We could get out of here!" Adam cried. "Please, help me!"

But Trevor had lapsed into complete silence again, and Adam was afraid to keep trying lest Davi hear him and punish Trevor somehow. They took him on into the bed chamber where Davi was waiting and stood against the walls. Davi walked up and, putting a hand on his chest, kissed him. He felt the energy seeping out of him, and she drew back. "By the Ancients, you are a positive battery!" She stroked his cheek possessively. "I'm never giving you up."

Adam pulled away. "What are you – why do you –"

She tapped his lips. "No talking, sweet thing." Obediently, he fell silent, but his mind was screaming. Taking his hand she led him over to the bed and sat him down. He realized that he was still unclothed, but it didn't seem to matter much. She reached into a compartment under the bed and pulled out another syringe, this one with something pink inside. _So that's where she got it last night,_ he thought. _I wondered._

He didn't even try to pull away as she stuck the needle in his arm. "This should give you enough energy to keep going for quite awhile, sweet thing," she said, and in fact, he could feel his heart speeding up as the drug made its way through his system.

She pressed him back on the bed, kissing him passionately, and after a few moments, he started to respond. Driven further by the new drug, after a few minutes more, he started to kiss her.

* * *

Randor glared at Shken, who was being obstructionist. The others they'd visited today had been very helpful. Despite the fact that it had only happened this morning, the news of Grenalo's attack and subsequent death had made quick rounds among the criminal element, and the slight embellishments that had been added along the way had done them no harm. Shken, however, had decided that he had something to prove. His people stood around him looking nervous and edgy.

As the petty crime lord blustered, Duncan leaned over to Randor and in an undertone that was clearly audible to the whole room, said, "So, do we kill just him, or all his people?"

Shken's monologue faltered to a stop and Randor smiled at him ferally, tilting his head. "Just him, I'd think, at least at first. The others might get suddenly more cooperative." Shken's people had begun to back away as Duncan had spoken, but their retreat was effectively blocked by Ram-Man standing across the doorway.

"You have a point, sire," Duncan said, pointing his fist at the man and activating his arm cannon.

"No!" Shken cried, throwing himself on the floor at Randor's feet. "Don't have me killed."

Randor took a step backwards. "Tell me what you know, and I'll consider it."

"I really don't know anything," he said. "I know you've already been to see everyone else, or so I heard."

"You don't know who the remaining two bidders were?"

Shken shook his head. "No, I have no idea. Just that they were women. One of them dropped out well before the half million mark when Skeletor stopped the bidding, and the other one is the one who got him."

"I see," Randor said. "Anything else?"

"She was an alto," one of Shken's people said, stepping forward. "I wouldn't say she was musically trained or anything, but her voice was a well-modulated alto." The man crossed his arms, cocking a hip. "She was probably three inches taller than your son," he added. "And I'd guess she wanted him for sexual purposes."

Randor's jaw dropped. "Why do you say that?" he asked, his voice sounding weak even to himself.

The man shrugged. "She kept asking for his shirt to be removed. You don't do that unless you've got a reason to want to see the skin, and I don't think she was looking for book bindings."

"I see." Randor exchanged a worried glance with Duncan, but the man wasn't finished.

"Now, I've been helpful. I only work for that putz because around here it's either work for one warlord or another. Is there any chance I can get a ticket to Eternia or someplace like that?"

Randor nodded. "Absolutely."

"How about for my sister?"

"Go get her," the king said. "Mek, go with him."

Holding his mace ready, Mekanek followed the man out, and Ram-Man didn't let anyone else leave the room. Within minutes they were back with a scared-looking young woman in threadbare clothing. Randor looked down at Shken. "Do you know anything else?"

The warlord shook his head. His former employee spat on his head and walked out of the room behind Ram-Man. They returned to the palace to drop off their new guests and regroup. Randor left the man and his sister to Duncan to manage, and went to find Marlena.

She was sitting in his office, going through the work that he was leaving undone to manage the search. She looked up at his entrance, eyes red with strain and puffy with crying. "Any news?" she asked though he was sure she could tell by his expression that there wasn't anything useful.

He shook his head. "Not much, and nothing pointing in any definite direction. We know now that the woman who's got him has an alto voice and is just a bit taller than he is, and –" He broke off. "More than that we don't know."

Marlena stood up and, walking swiftly around his desk, she took his arms and looked into his face. "What are you concealing?" she demanded.

Grimacing, he drew her over to the window seat. "I'm sorry, darling, I – it's difficult." He took a deep breath. "The last person we talked to, a young man whose name I didn't get, was very observant, and he wanted out of the employ of the warlord he was working for so he was also very helpful. He mentioned that Adam's purchaser asked that his shirt be removed, which led him to believe that –" He paused, unable to immediately say the rest.

"Well, unless she was looking for a manual laborer," Marlena said slowly, "I can only think of one reason why she'd ask for that." Her eyes were wells of distress and pain.

Randor nodded. "That was the fellow's point," he said. "Where's Teela?"

"She's running an errand," Marlena said. "She should be back any moment. She wasn't thrilled about being left behind this morning."

"I'm sure she wasn't but –"

The door slammed open. "Your majesty –" Teela broke off as she saw both of them. "Your majesties! Good. There's a woman here who wants to see you, sire, but she won't give her name. She just says it's about Adam and that she was at that auction."

"Bring her here," Randor exclaimed. "Immediately. And send for Man-at-Arms."

Teela nodded and left the room.

"Do you think it's her?" Marlena asked.

"I doubt it, but the other person we have been unable to identify was female, or this could be someone who simply accompanied one of the bidders to the auction."

Marlena bit her lip thoughtfully. "Maybe we should call your bodyguards inside," she suggested. "It might be wise to have them handy in case she's an assassin."

Randor agreed and she went and asked Duorno, who guarded the king's back when he was at the capital, to come into the room with his partner, Seth. The king went and sat behind his desk, and Marlena pulled up another chair next to him.

Duncan arrived first. "I've gotten Teran and his sister settled in some guest quarters till we work out what we're going to do with him. Then I sent them both to the infirmary. I figure with the life they've led, they probably both need attention of some sort."

Randor nodded. "Dorgan will take care of them," he remarked. "Did Teela tell you why we sent for you?"

"No."

"There's a woman here who says –" Marlena started, but there was a knock at the door.

"Come," Randor called and the door opened, admitting Teela and a figure Randor immediately recognized. "Lithi?" he exclaimed, rising. Marlena rose beside him. "I certainly hadn't expected you." Teela withdrew from the room, leaving her alone beside the door.

"No, I imagine you hadn't," she said. "Sit down, you know I don't hold with that nonsense." Lithi was among the leaders of a vocal group in Malinaca, a land to the north of the nation of Eternia. She was rigidly opposed to the Elders and Randor as king of Eternia, but Randor had dealt with her before and knew her for an honorable woman.

Randor sank into his chair, mildly astonished. "How on Eternia did _you_ wind up at that auction?"

"I'm not entirely sure," she said, shaking her head disgustedly as she walked over and sat down across from the desk. "Obviously, Skeletor has misread me in one way or another, but when I got the invitation stating that the son of Randor was up for sale, I went, figuring that you'd owe me something if I managed to buy him and return him to you."

"Why have you come?" Marlena asked.

Lithi shrugged. "Because despite the fact that I think your husband's a despot and among the worst things that could have happened to Eternia, no sixteen-year-old boy deserves what he's going through." She crossed her arms. "Besides, it doesn't thrill me that Skeletor seems to think I'd buy the kid and kill him." She grimaced. "I would have come sooner, but there was a crisis yesterday and a storm hit late in the night, and it took us hours to dig the flyer free."

"So, what do you have to tell us?" Randor asked.

"First, one of my men recognized the voice of the woman who bought Adam, so I can tell you her name." Randor's eyes widened. "He, without orders, mind you, followed her as far as he could. He doesn't like the idea of any kid winding up with that harpy."

"I see," Marlena said. "What do you think is going on?"

"You'd probably better hear it from him. He's got first hand information, since he used to belong to her, too." Randor blinked at this information. "Your people wouldn't let me bring him in with me, though. Seemed to think he was a threat."

Randor glanced up at Duncan, who nodded. "I'll go get him." He left the room quickly and Randor turned back to Lithi.

"Let me tell you something before Voren comes," she said. "You need to know that he's roughly fifty-five, and that he spent from the ages of twelve through thirty-five in Daviona's service."

"Daviona?" Randor exclaimed incredulously. "Not Daviona! Why?"

Lithi shrugged again. "How should I know? But Voren is certain it was her, and he should know."

"What did he do for her?" Marlena asked.

Lithi's eyes lit on the queen's face. "I think I'll let him tell you. I don't want to get it wrong." The sympathy in the other woman's eyes made Randor nervous, because it was clearly sympathy for expected pain, not current.

Duncan opened the door and ushered the man in and Randor's jaw dropped. He himself was forty-five, but the man who entered looked old enough to be his father, or even his grandfather. Lithi started up as soon as he entered, hands reaching towards him as if she wanted to help him. She dropped her hands almost immediately and seemed to notice Randor's reaction. She nodded as the man walked slowly across the room. "This is part of it," she said. "Voren, tell them what she did to you."

The man nodded and looked down at his hands. "You are the boy's parents?" he asked in a voice that was thin and reedy.

"Yes," Marlena said. "Please sit down. Is there something I can get you to drink?"

"No, ma'am," he said. "Thank you, though." He sat down and Lithi sat with him. "Let me start at the beginning, as best I can." Randor took Marlena's hand. This didn't sound promising. "My parents died in the war with Marzo, when I was just a boy, and I wound up in an orphanage. When I was twelve, a woman came and looked all us boys over and chose me. She said she needed a house servant and that the work would be relatively light, and the matron thought it sounded fine. So she sent me off with her." As his tale continued, Randor found himself feeling desperately ill. Daviona evidently took boys from orphanages all across the planet, always at twelve, always handsome boys. Then she used drugs and magic to bind them to her service in every possible capacity, turning them into near-zombies in the process. Marlena's hand tightened on his as they listened to the man's wrenching tale.

She used them as guards, as servants, and as sexual partners when they were old enough, and through it all, she controlled them with drugs that were designed to create dependency, and magic that built off the effects of the drugs.

"It took years for me to wean him off some of them," Lithi said when he paused. "We're not sure how he managed it, but Voren escaped, carrying some of the drugs away with him. I found him in the streets of Urtano, and took him in."

"I still have to take some of them," he said. "Or I would die." Marlena let out a little sound of distress, but Voren leaned forward shaking his head. "It takes years to develop that level of dependency, truly," he assured her. "We should be able to rescue your son before he reaches that point. Further, it's more than likely that she won't use those on him. I doubt that she plans to turn him into one of her attendants, not starting this late."

"Then what?" Randor asked. Duncan was just staring open-mouthed, clearly stunned beyond speech.

"It's hard to say, but while I was with her, there was one occasion on which she took an older boy into her service." He paused. "She used him for sex magic, to build up power, and then she sacrificed him for a big working."

A sob escaped Marlena's rigid control, and Randor put his arms around his wife, holding her close as she buried her face in his chest. "Elders," he breathed. "But you followed them, Lithi said."

"I did, but I lost them before she landed." He grimaced. "I can tell you a general region where she landed, but her headquarters is incredibly well concealed, both by magic and natural means. For one thing, the bulk of it is underground."

"Any help you can give us would be greatly appreciated," Randor said. "I just wish I understood why she was doing this. I turned her down flat years ago, but even so, why would she care?"

Voren raised his eyebrows. "Well, as it happens, I can answer that," he said. "I was with her at that time." Randor blanched, remembering that this man was only ten years older than he was, so when Daviona was trying to seduce him at twenty, Voren had been a man of thirty, still in her clutches. He shuddered. "She went on and on about a prophecy, something about how your son would be the fulfillment of some prophecy or other. So she went out and tried to seduce you so she could get pregnant with your son."

Duncan made a strange choking sound, and Randor felt as if a carpet had been yanked out from under his feet. "She did say repeatedly that she wanted to have my son."

Voren snorted. "Well, it sounds like she's changed her definition of 'have.'" Marlena whimpered into her husband's chest and the king stroked her hair gently. "Oh, I'm sorry," Voren said, grimacing. "I didn't think."

Randor looked out the window at the night sky. "Can you take us to where you last had clear sight of her in the morning?"

"Certainly," Voren said.

Lithi nodded. "In the meantime, can we trespass on your hospitality?"

"Of course," Randor said.

"We'll only need one room," Lithi said, flashing Randor a smile. "Voren and I got married a few years back."

Duncan, who seemed to have recovered from his surprise, stepped forward. "I'll take care of them, sire, if that's all right."

"Yes, Duncan, thank you."

Man-at-Arms led Lithi and her husband from the room, and Randor turned his attention to Marlena. "Love, are you all right?"

"I will be," she said. "As soon as I have Adam back."

"I know, dear, I know."


	5. Connections

**Chapter 5 – Connections**

Adam lay back on the satiny bed, bone weary but sick with disgust at himself. He had not merely lain passively under her ministrations this time, he had participated. His skin crawled at the memory of her touch, and his hands . . . he didn't want to think about what he had done, what she had directed him to do.

He rolled over. She cleaned the surface of the bed with her magic each time before she went, thank the Elders, or it would be truly disgusting. Closing his eyes, the prince strove to still his thoughts, but they were a tumult. His father would come. His father would find him. He would not be stuck here for very much longer.

Adam had thought more than once about how he would like his first time with a woman to be . . . and this was so different from anything he had imagined. Inconceivably vile.

Eventually he slept, and dreamt of unending years as Daviona's slave.

* * *

They landed where Voren directed. "This is as far as I got," the old man said, looking around in apparent bafflement. "She landed out of my line of sight, though, and it's been years since I was out here."

Randor looked around. They were in the middle of the huge southern stretches of open farmland where the houses were many miles apart. "What does it look like?" he asked.

"An outbuilding," Voren said. Duncan raised his binoculars and looked around. "Do you have a wizard on your staff?" the old man asked suddenly.

"Well, we have Orko," Randor said. "I'm not sure I'd call him a wizard, exactly. Why?"

"Everything she has is concealed by magic, so if you don't have someone who can see through it, and maybe affect it sometimes, you've got a problem."

"Orko is actually pretty skilled at seeing through magical concealment," Teela said walking over. "At least, I think he is."

"That's a start," Voren said. "You might want to get him here." He shook his head. "I should hav ehtought of that before, but I'm not so good at remembering things these days."

"Don't worry about it," Randor said, glancing at Teela.

Teela nodded and activated her com unit.

"It will take him awhile to get here," Randor said. "What do we do in the meantime?"

Duncan nodded towards a wagon in the distance. "Question the locals?"

Climbing back aboard the wind raider, they flew over to where the farmers were carrying their late harvest fruit to market and landed far enough away not to frighten their beast, but close enough to walk over to them.

There were two farmers; from the looks of things they were father and son. Randor leaned over to Duncan. "So, what were you going to ask them?"

"They're not likely to know much," Voren said in an undertone. "She keeps to herself and there are confusion spells all around her property."

"Excuse me," Duncan said, walking forward.

"Yes, my lord?" the father said, glancing over at Randor and the others, but not paying them much heed. The king had elected to dress like a common soldier today, so as not to draw attention.

"Is there a property around her that doesn't get much farming done?" Duncan asked.

The man knit his brows and said, "There's a couple, why? Are you looking for property to buy?"

"Not precisely. Among those, is there one where you don't know the people? Maybe even don't know who the people are?"

Pursing his lips, the farmer sat back and thought.

"Well," his son said, looking over at Teela who was standing close to her father, "there is that one that old man Druskin farms."

"What do you mean?" Duncan asked, leaning towards him.

Still looking at Teela and smiling slightly, the young fellow went on. "There's a piece of property that no one seems to belong to, it's got an outbuilding on it that's locked up tighter than a miser's fist, but no one ever farms it, and we never see anyone coming in or out."

"I hadn't thought of that," the farmer said. "But it gets farmed every year."

"It sounds like it could be what I'm looking for, though," Duncan said. "Tell me about it. Does Druskin have an arrangement with the owner?"

"He must –" the farmer started, but his son shook his head.

"Naw, he just noticed no one was using it and started tilling the land. According to his son, he's been doing it for forty years now and nobody's every complained." The young man grinned and jumped down from the wagon, walking over to where Teela and Duncan were standing. "Marlin and I used to try to get into that building when we were kids, but there's no way in." He looked over at Teela and smiled. "I could show you where it is," he suggested, rocking back on his heels.

"That sounds like an excellent notion," Duncan said, taking his arm and turning him away from Teela. He looked up at the young fellow's father. "May we borrow your son?"

"Well, we are headed out to market," the man said, his expression growing serious. "What's going on?"

"A young man not much younger than your son has been abducted," Duncan said. "We have reason to believe he was brought to this area, and this shack, this outbuilding may be involved."

"I haven't heard anything about no kid going missing," the man said, his eyes narrowing.

"We haven't been publicizing it," Randor said, walking over. "I'm sorry, we didn't get your name."

"Jonif," the farmer said. "And my son is Truman."

"Thank you," the king said. "My name is Randor, and this is Duncan. We're looking for my son, and any help you could give us would be greatly appreciated."

"Randor . . ." The man's eyes widened and he looked first at Randor, then at Duncan, then around at the others. "Your majesty!" he exclaimed, starting to jump down from the wagon. "I didn't –"

"Don't trouble yourself, I was trying not to be recognized," Randor said, waving him back to his seat. "I'm not here as a king, I'm here as a father looking for his son. Can you help us?"

"You mean Prince Adam has been kidnaped?" the man said, sounding appalled. Randor nodded, trying to keep from showing his emotions too baldly. From Jonif's expression, he failed. "Of course we'll help, however we can. Truman, you go to market with the fruit, I'll guide the king."

"But, Father," Truman said, glancing at Teela, who seemed oblivious to his interest throughout.

"I'm sure that Man-at-Arms' daughter will be fine without your presence, Truman," Jonif said acidly. "Take the fruit to market and keep your tongue between your teeth on this, you hear me?"

Scarlet, Truman climbed into the wagon, taking his father's place at the reins. He took them up and started moving, glancing regretfully back over his shoulder. Jonif turned to his king. "I'm ready, sire," he said.

Orko zoomed up and circled the party twice before he got his speed under control. "I'm here! I'm here!" he cried. "What can I do to help?" He finally came to a stop in front of Randor.

"Great Elders!" Jonif exclaimed. "What's that?"

"This," Randor said, taking Orko's arm and turning him to face the farmer, "is Orko. He's the court magician and a close friend of my son's." The king noticed Orko's astonished look and smiled. "Let me introduce the other members of the party."

"We can do that en route, can't we, Randor?" Duncan said. "Let's get moving."

"Right."

* * *

Adam awakened at the touch of a hand on his shoulder. He rolled sideways, off the bed, and came to his feet in a crouch. It was Trevor, who stared impassively at him. When he didn't move, two of the guards came around the bed, and for all of Adam's struggles, they subdued him easily. He didn't seem to have a lot of energy, and his coordination was still shot.

Evidently some of the effects of those drugs lasted a good long time. _Are they permanent?_ he couldn't help wondering. _Will I always be like this, even if I'm rescued?_ A stab of worry shot through him as they walked him through into the bathing chamber. _Don't think that way, Adam,_ he told himself. _Not if, _when_ I'm rescued._

He pulled away as they started to walk him into the water. He bathed himself quickly, and they took him back towards the lab. He grit his teeth as they entered, wondering what horrors he was to experience in here today.

Much to his surprise, all they did was strap him to the table, oil him up, change the dressing on the burn – _brand, call it by its rightful name_ – give him a shot, and dry his hair. They had given him a light silk robe of pale green today, and as he put it back on after they were done with him, he wondered why they bothered.

They led him back to the bedchamber, where Davi was waiting, a syringe in her hands. A cold panic gripped him and he started to turn, to run, to try and escape. He didn't want another day like yesterday. He wanted out! He wanted gone!

Hands grabbed at him, trying to subdue him, but all the fighting skills he'd learned from Man-at-Arms, all the hours he'd spent training as He-Man, came to him and he fought like a demon until suddenly blackness overwhelmed him.

He wasn't sure how long it was before she woke him again, but when she did, she was leaning over him with a slightly sadistic smile on her face. "That collar, my boy, is a handy device," she said, tapping it, then stroking down his chest. He felt the touch of her hand with every nerve in his skin, and, senses aflame, he started to reach for her, only then discovering that his hands were bound above his head.

Davi bent and kissed the skin of his chest, causing him to arch upward. He couldn't control himself, his body was primed and ready, and he was not in charge.

She smiled and climbed atop him, straddling him at the waist, wearing nothing but a bit of perfume. As she leaned down close to him, her hair fell down into his face, filling his nostrils with the scent. She kissed him, and he kissed her back, unable to stop himself. Her breasts brushed against his chest, sending shocks of erotic pleasure to his groin. Then she drew back, smiling that same self-satisfied and vicious smile. "I kept you out long enough for the drug to take full effect, my sweet young man." Her hazel eyes caught his with a malicious glint. "You're mine, Prince Adam, and you will remain mine."

He closed his eyes, trying as hard as he could to escape that avaricious gaze. She shifted her weight, and he wasn't sure what she was doing until he felt the bonds on his wrists released. She stroked down his arms with her hands, setting the skin there on fire, and he lost control again, assuming he'd ever had it.

The panic that had overtaken his thoughts on the other occasions was fading, leaving him with a kind of numb desolation. _This must be what despair feels like,_ Adam thought as he gave Davi every pleasure she asked for.

* * *

They arrived at the outbuilding and Voren walked up to it, staring, eyes wide. "This is it," he said. "I don't believe it. More than twenty years and . . . . this is it."

"How do we get in?" Randor asked, gazing at the unprepossessing building. It appeared to be a simple shed, not more than ten feet on a side. There was nothing special about it, and it didn't even look well-maintained. The walls appeared to have been cobbled together from a number of different sources. In other words, it looked like the sort of thing a poor farmer might build out in the distant acres of his holding.

"When I was here, I'd just put my hand . . ." Voren said, reaching toward one of the walls.

Duncan caught his arm. "Not just yet. We don't want to risk alerting her."

Voren drew his hand back, nodding. "Sorry. It's just a little stunning, being here again."

Jonif looked at Voren curiously. "Again?" he asked. "You've been inside there?" Voren nodded. "Can you answer a question, then, because all of us, as kids, tried to get into this place, for generations. Can you tell me what's in there?"

Voren looked at him, his eyes filled with a faraway pain. "It's just as well none of you never found out," he said, causing the farmer to look perplexed.

"Sire?" Duncan said. "Perhaps we should send for more of the masters."

"You're probably right," Randor said. "See to it, if you would." Duncan nodded and turned away with his com unit. "Jonif, I appreciate your help more than I can say, but I think it's time I returned you to your son."

"Isn't there anything else I can do?" the farmer asked.

"You've done more than you can imagine," Randor said. "I don't know how long it would have taken us to find this place without your help."

"I don't feel like I've done much, your majesty," Jonif said. "But you know best."

"Mekanek, will you take him to the market?"

"Of course, sire," the master said, then threw his arm around Jonif. "Come on, sir."

Randor turned back to Duncan, who was still speaking into his com link. Teela walked up beside him. "Your majesty?"

Randor looked down at her. "Yes, Teela?"

"What are we going to find down there, do you think?"

The king opened his mouth and then shut it again. "You won't be going down there, Teela, I need you to guard our exit."

Her eyes flew wide and then she nodded. "Of course, sire." She immediately backed away and went to stand beside Ram-Man. Duncan finished his call at that moment and looked up.

"Half an hour," he said, sounding disgruntled. "They'll be here in half an hour."

"Hell!" Randor muttered. "And Adam's probably just beneath our feet."

Orko had been flitting back and forth across the area. "I think there's something under here," he said, pointing at a wide stretch of empty dirt. He floated closer to examine it.

Ten minutes went by and Randor found himself wondering why they were standing around outside a broken down shack in the middle of a field. He turned to Duncan to say that they should just go home when he caught sight of Voren and their reasons for being here hit home again.

"What are we doing here?" Ram-Man said abruptly. "Why are we just standing around –" Teela hit him in the stomach.

"Adam, Rammy!" she said, glaring at him. "Adam's here!"

"Oh, yeah." The large man's eyes widened. "Why did I forget that?"

"Cuz there's a spell," Orko said matter-of-factly, still examining the stretch of ground. "It doesn't affect Teela on account of her still being a kid."

"I'm _not_ a kid!" Teela declared angrily. Her expression faded into confused misery. Randor resolved to talk to her later, but for now he had to keep focused on his son.

After another few minutes, he shook his head. "I'm not waiting any longer," he said. "I'm going in."

"Randor, no!" Duncan exclaimed. "We have to wait."

"What if Adam is being killed right now?"

Teela made a distressed sound and Duncan shook his head. "We can't afford to lose you both!"

"So we save Adam and everything's fine!"

"Randor!" Duncan cried. "Be rational!"

"He can't," Orko said, still looking closely at the ground. "It's that spell. It starts out making you wonder why you're here. If that doesn't work, it goes on to other things. I think this is a window."

Randor gaped at the sudden shift in subject, then reached out and snatched Orko back. "What if you were seen?" he demanded.

"Oops," the Trollan said in a small voice. "I don't think I was," he said, eyes wide. "I really really don't."

"Let's hope not," Randor replied. "We can't afford for them to have any warning."

"Here comes Mekanek," Ram-Man said. "I wondered what was keeping him so long."

The irritation in Ram-Man's tone startled Randor. "Rammy, remember the spell. You're not really angry at Mekanek, right?"

The largest of the masters blinked and scowled. "No, I'm not, but I sure feel mad. This is really rotten."

The wind raider landed. "I got Jonif off, and it seems Truman has been even more tight-lipped than we could have hoped for. He wasn't even talking, just giving prices and taking money."

"Good," Duncan said.

Orko floated up to Mekanek. "You should know, there's a spell that might make you feel unexpected emotions. It should start by making you think you ought to leave, so just fight it and you'll be fine."

Mekanek gave Randor a startled look. "It's true," the king said. "We're all having problems."

"How long are we going to wait?" Teela asked desperately. "The Elders only know what's happening to Adam!"

* * *

It hadn't taken very long for her to drain him of energy this time, but unlike the other occasions, she hadn't left him alone to sleep it off.

"Take him and give him a bath," she'd said. "Then give him the green again, and when that's taken effect, give him the yellow."

Listlessly, Adam had gone with the guards into the bathing chamber. He tried to clean himself up, but his energy was gone, so Trevor and one of the others had done it for him. Then they took him into the clinic and strapped him down to the table. He knew he should be trying to get away, to convince Trevor to help him, but he was so tired . . . so unbearably tired . . . where was all this energy coming from, anyway?

_Grayskull._ The thought floated through his mind as the needle entered his arm. That upper right arm was beginning to feel bruised from all the needles. He wondered if he would give in and get used to it in time. Did Trevor and the others have their daily doses? He shuddered internally at the trend his thoughts were taking,

Then weariness reached up and took him.

* * *

As soon as the three wind raiders had landed, Randor stepped forward. Duncan had evidently sent for more than the masters, he realized as an entire squad of the guard formed up on the ground. "We have reason to believe that Adam is in a secret compound beneath the surface here." he said. "There are going to be warriors down there who will fight us, but they have no choice and are not in control of themselves. Kill them only if you have to, but don't endanger yourselves unnecessarily."

Voren nodded, and Randor was glad to see that he had hit the right note. "Now, Lieutenant, select half your men to stay up here with Captain Teela and Ram-Man, to guard our exit." He turned to Teela, "Capture anyone who tries to escape."

"Yes, sire," Teela said.

He turned to the other masters. "Adam may not be able to participate in his rescue, or he may even try to prevent us. He's undoubtedly under the influence of some sort of drug, and we're not altogether certain what that will do to him."

"Sire?" asked Mekanek.

"Yes?"

"If he attacks us . . ."

Randor grimaced. "Do the bare minimum needed to subdue him, Mek," he said after a moment's thought. "The woman holding him has magical powers, and she may attack with some form of chemical weapon. Be prepared for anything." They all nodded and Randor turned to Duncan. "Do you have anything to say?"

"No, my king, I think you covered it very well."

"Good, then, Voren, Orko, the task of opening the building is yours."

Nodding, the old man turned back to the door and placed his hand flat on a panel that had the look of a filthy window. A dim light showed behind the filth covering the pane of glass, and then the door recessed and slid to the side. "Ancients!" he breathed, staring into the interior of the space. "Nothing has changed in twenty years."

"Let's go," Randor said and Voren walked inside followed by the king, Duncan and the masters, Orko and the five soldiers. It was a close fit, but they made it inside. After a few seconds, the door slid shut behind the last of them, shutting them into a dimly lit space that did not have the look of a farmer's shack.

There was no noise, but there was a feeling of movement, vague and disorienting, and the dim light faded away completely. "What's going on?" Duncan asked.

"It's an elevator," Voren said. "We're going down to the level of the complex. If nothing else has changed, I should be able to open the inner door by just . . ." After a moment of tense silence, a square of light appeared as a door swung open.

They stepped through the door into a large, open room, circular in design, with furniture and hangings in blues, greens and purples. It was a very luxurious room, but Randor could see that Adam wasn't in it. In fact, it was completely empty. Duncan strode over to one of the doors and opened it to reveal a blank wall beyond.

"None of the doors lead anywhere at the moment," Voren said. "First we have to close the outer door, then we have to figure out how to activate the turntable."

Orko was floating above the crowd, clearly focused on the walls. "I think I've got –" he started, but then there was a grinding sound. "I'm not doing that!" he exclaimed.

"People could come out of any of those three doors," Voren exclaimed, but he was pushing through the crowd to a section of wall that didn't appear to have a door. Duncan followed him worriedly. "And there's a hidden door right about –"

A piece of wall recessed and opened, revealing Daviona. Randor was stunned. She looked just as she had twenty-five years ago when she'd tried to seduce him. She was wearing a simple shift of pale green that ended just above her knees. "What the –" she exclaimed, then, at the top of her voice she yelled. "Stop them!" Drawing back, she slammed the door shut in Duncan's face. He stopped just in time to keep from thumping into the wall, then started running his hands over it, trying to work out how to open the door again.

On the other side of the room, one of the doors slammed open and six young men poured out, weapons in hand. They immediately attacked, fighting like demons. Randor stared at the door they had emerged from. He thought he heard something, a voice, from within. He began fighting his way across the room, thrusting people aside, trying to reach that doorway.

* * *

Adam was startled from his sleep by a shriek that echoed through his head. "Stop them!" Her voice was shrill, and it sounded odd, like it wasn't in the room with him. He heard the door open, and it sounded louder, more intrusive than usual. Footsteps went pouring through it, but he couldn't turn his head to see if he was alone or not. He was still strapped face down to the table.

From the sound of things, there was a fight going on outside the room. All the noises, all the grunts and clangs and blaster shots seemed magnified, very close, very disturbing. But if there was fighting, that had to mean rescue.

He struggled to make his voice heard over the din. "Father!" he cried. "Father!" His voice sounded weak and puny to his ears, and he was afraid they wouldn't find him. He began to struggle, but his energy was still low, and the sounds from the outer room were beating away at him. "Father?"

* * *

Randor shoved one final obstacle out of the way and ran through the doorway. He paused briefly, staring at the tableau. Adam was lying stark naked on an examination table of some kind, arms and legs and head strapped down so firmly that he could barely move, yet he was struggling against his bonds.

"Father?" he called, in a voice so pathetic and so desperate that it tore at Randor's heart.

He rushed across the room. "I'm here, son," he said, reaching out immediately to undo the strap holding Adam's head down.

"Daddy?" The voice was so small, so weak, that tears started pouring down Randor's face.

"I'm here, Adam, I'm not going to leave you." He undid the remaining restraints hurriedly, fingers fumbling with the straps. In the process he discovered some sort of collar on his neck, of silver mesh, and he wondered what it was for.

As soon as he was free, Adam turned over and wrapped his arms around his father, curling up into a ball. Randor put his arms around him. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. You're safe!"

"Daddy, I want to go home," Adam said into his chest. "Please, let's go home."

Whipping his cloak off one handed, keeping one arm around Adam, Randor tucked the fabric around the boy. He held his son and rocked him, murmuring reassurances until the sounds of fighting dimmed behind him. Then he heard footsteps and prayed that they were the right ones.

"Randor, is he –" Mekanek's voice broke off. "I'll get the soldiers to carry the other young men out. Maybe you'd better stay in here with –"

"No!" Adam wailed. "I want to go home!"

"We'll go home, Adam. Just a –" He broke off as Adam started wailing wordlessly, clinging to him and rocking. Randor heard footsteps behind him and turned his head.

Voren was looking at the counter. "Green and yellow, that's not good," he said. He opened a cupboard door. "Which was it . . ." he murmured. "Oh, right, the lavender." He pulled down a vial of lavender liquid from the rows and rows of vials on the shelves. Randor's eyes were wide as he saw them. Voren screwed the vial onto a fresh needle and walked towards them.

Adam's face was buried in his chest, but Randor shook his head. "What is that?"

"It's a sleeping agent," Voren said. "They gave him yellow. He's not going to be calm again until that wears off. All this noise, it must be driving him nearly mad."

Mekanek tilted his head. "Not to be insulting, but you didn't seem too sure what you wanted when you were looking, and what's to say that it hasn't changed over the years?"

Voren rolled his eyes, then rolled up his sleeve, holding the syringe out to Mekanek. "Give me some. If it doesn't kill me, give it to the prince."

Mek held up his hands, shaking his head. "We have our own drugs, thanks," he said.

"And do you know exactly how they will react with these?" Voren demanded. "Look, this drug should simply knock me unconscious almost instantly. Take it!" He thrust it into Mekanek's hands and the master took it. "Now, give it to me and if I do anything other than fall asleep, don't give it to the kid, but we don't have time. He's hearing all of this and everything that's going on in the next room, and it's all sounding twice as loud, and he can't block any of it out."

Randor thought for a moment, then said, "Do it."

"Fine," Mek said. "Grab me another one of those so I don't have to figure it out for myself." Voren went over and created a new syringe and handed it off to Mekanek. Then the master carefully inserted the needle into the other man's arm, shooting the drug home. After a few seconds, Voren's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell limply into Mekanek's arms. The master eased the other man to the floor.

All this time, Adam had been wailing, but the sound had been decreasing in volume. Now he stopped altogether. After a second, he said, "I want Mommy."

Randor squeezed him tightly. "You'll see her soon, son. She misses you, too."

Mekanek stood up with the second syringe, and Randor drew back a corner of his cloak so he could reach Adam's arm. With his face buried in his father's chest, the boy didn't see the syringe coming, but when he felt the hand take his arm, he froze, and when the needle entered his skin, he started to panic. Hurriedly, Mekanek pushed the plunger, but before he got all of the drug in, Adam jerked free, breaking the needle off in his arm. Randor held him tightly as he started to sob.

"By the Elders!" Randor didn't turn his head, but he heard Duncan's voice behind him. "What are you doing?" he demanded, running in.

Adam collapsed in mid-sob, relaxing against his father's chest. Randor fumbled his hand up and took his pulse in his neck. "He's fine," he said, his relief coloring his tone.

"What the hell is going on?" Duncan asked, sounding bewildered.

"Adam was hysterical," Randor said.

"That's an understatement," Mekanek said. He reached up and gently pulled the broken off needle out of Adam's arm.

"Why is Voren on the ground?"

"We tested the sedative on him," Randor said.

"You what?" Duncan seemed utterly astounded.

"It was his idea," Randor assured him. "We weren't comfortable about using something out of her cabinet, but, as he pointed out, we don't dare use anything out of our normal medicine kits on him because we don't know how it will interact with what he's already got in his system." Randor nodded at the cupboard behind Duncan.

Man-at-Arms turned around and Randor could almost hear his jaw dropping. "Ancients and Elders," he murmured.

"Voren said she used green and yellow on him just now, and that it was having a dreadful effect on him, making everything magnified or something," Mekanek said. "He was wailing and freaking out, and we needed to calm him down somehow."

Randor looked down at the golden hair. "He called me 'daddy,'" he said softly, and Duncan turned back around. "And he said he wanted mommy. Duncan, he hasn't called me 'daddy' since he was eight."

"No, I remember him informing you that 'daddy' was what babies said, and that 'dad' was much more grown up."

"When did he start calling me 'father'?" Randor asked, stroking his son's hair.

Mekanek backed up. "I'm going to take Voren up to the wind raider," he said, sounding slightly uncomfortable. "And get the soldiers to go. I don't think we want to carry Adam in that state through a squad of soldiers, right?"

"Thank you, Mek, that's a good idea," Duncan said. The master left, but Randor barely noticed, so focused was he on his son. "Randor, he's sixteen. That's a tough age for fathers and sons."

Randor sighed, but before he could speak, Orko wafted in. "Um . . . we can't open the door to the surface without turning the room," he said. "And if we turn the room, we'll seal you in here."

"Can't you just make a hole in the wall?" Duncan asked.

"You mean like you did?" Orko shook his head. "The walls are woven through with magical energy, so spells can't get through. That's probably why the Sorceress couldn't find him."

"Well, I can solve that," Duncan said. "Randor, I'll be back in a moment." He strode out of the room, but Orko lingered.

"Is he okay?" the little jester asked.

Randor looked down at Adam. "He will be," he said, but Orko didn't seem to hear him.

He floated down close to the prince and pushed his hair aside, looking at his neck. Words burbled out of him that Randor didn't understand, then he pointed at Adam's neck and said, "Release!" The collar came loose and Orko snatched it up before it could fall to the floor. "This will need to be destroyed," he said. "That was a really bad woman. I wish she hadn't gotten away."

"She what?" Randor exclaimed in shocked anger.

The jester floated back before Randor's expression. "Didn't Man-at-Arms tell you?"

"No." Randor shook his head, forcing himself to be calm. "I'm sorry, Orko, I'm not angry with you." The jester nodded. "How did she escape?"

"She had a portal at the back of her living quarters. Man-at-Arms saw her go through it. He said he thought he might have singed her foot with a blast from his cannon."

There was a loud explosion, and then Man-at-Arms called. "All right, we have a door now."

Orko had zipped around behind Randor at the sound of the explosion. Now he came back out. "I hate it when he does that," he muttered, floating out.

Randor had the irrational desire to laugh. After the number of times he'd heard Man-at-Arms mutter that exact same phrase about Orko, it was surreal to hear the jester say it about Man-at-Arms. A moment later, Duncan came back in looking very pleased with himself, morphing his arm back as he walked.

"We have a door?" Randor asked in his most neutral tone.

Duncan shrugged. "Well, we do." He looked worriedly at Adam, then his eyes widened and he pulled the cloak back further to reveal more of the prince's arm. "She branded him!" he exclaimed, sounding furious.

"What?" Randor leaned around and saw the livid pink mark on Adam's arm in an indecipherable shape. The skin was swollen and there were several blisters at points where the lines were thicker. "I will kill that –"

"Your majesty?" Mekanek called from the doorway. "The soldiers are searching through her living quarters, so now might be a good time to get Adam to the surface."

"Right." Randor turned to Duncan. "Can you take charge here?"

"Of course, Sire."

"And Mekanek, grab one of each of those vials, so we can give them to Dorgan." Mek nodded, and suited action to word. Randor lifted Adam in his arms and carried him quickly through the central room, through the gaping hole in the wall that Duncan was pleased to call a door, and out into the elevator where Orko was waiting. Mekanek followed, and then the little jester did something to the panel that Voren had used to control the device and they started up.

Teela, Ram-Man and Stratos were waiting at the top, and they stared in shocked horror at the prince. Randor realized that Adam's legs were sticking out from under the cloak, but he just pushed past them and took his son to the nearest wind raider, where Voren was already sleeping peacefully on the back seat. Mekanek climbed up ahead of him and Randor handed his son up, then climbed in himself. Taking the boy back, he settled him on his lap and covered as much of him as he could. Before Mekanek could take off, Teela leapt into the back seat.

"Someone should make sure that Voren doesn't fall off the seat," she said. Randor knew what she really wanted, but he couldn't deny her the privilege of being there when Adam woke up again.


	6. Awakening

**Chapter 6 – Awakening**

Duncan stalked through the complex of rooms, examining each one. There was a bed chamber that positively reeked of sex, and which was designed as a combination prison/boudoir. Nothing in the room could be used as a weapon, either of attack or suicide. He had a strong suspicion that this was where Adam had been kept. He looked around and found a compartment just below the mattress of the bed that contained more syringes, fully loaded and ready for use. The rage burning in his gut was building to a level that he wasn't sure he could control.

The next room was a bathing chamber, and it was pretty straightforward. Large sunken tub, soap, chair, towels and robes. There were no hidden compartments, no reclining couches, nothing. It was clearly meant simply for cleaning.

He skipped the clinic, there was already a medic in there taking an inventory of the items within. He turned his attention to the living quarters. The guards had been set to searching that, so he mostly just reviewed their work, but there were two rooms they had left completely alone, at his insistence. One was a bookroom that he thought he needed someone with magical training to examine. The other was a combination laboratory and workshop. He walked in there and looked around. It was huge. There were the predictable items any chemist needed, beakers, tubes, a cold unit, several forms of heating unit. He began by opening the cold unit and stared in shocked horror. Within were seven small vials of a red substance, each labeled neatly, "Adam."

He shut the door and turned his back on it, his eyes coming to light on two more vials, one empty next to a test tube that had some kind of mixture in it, and the other being heated over a small heating unit. He reached out and turned off the power, then went out into the hall. He'd leave that for the medics to look through. It was nauseating him just to think about what she might have been planning to use Adam's blood for.

"Man-at-Arms?" He turned and saw that Sergeant Raon had come up. The young man's eyes were wide and deeply disturbed, and he gulped before he spoke again. "I've found something, sir, and I think you need to look at it. I sealed the room."

"What have you found?" Duncan asked, growing apprehensive. Though he was an old friend of Prince Adam's, Raon wasn't neither an alarmist nor likely to take advantage of his friendship with the prince, and his act of sealing the room was well above his authority.

"I think you'd better see it for yourself, sir," Raon reiterated.

"Lead on."

The sergeant did, and when they arrived, Duncan raised his eyebrows. Raon's method of 'sealing the room' had evidently consisted of putting his commanding officer in front of it. Lieutenant Soha stood before the door, his face very serious. "Man-at-Arms, sir," he said. "Sergeant Raon asked me not to go in, and I trust his judgement."

Duncan nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Sergeant?" He gestured and, swallowing convulsively, Raon walked in ahead of him. Lieutenant Soha shut the door behind them and Duncan found himself in a room with a what appeared to be large viewscreen and racks of multi-colored plastic squares.

"All of these seem to hold images," Raon said. "There are more in a box in her bedroom, and probably elsewhere, I don't know." He turned and sat down in the single chair and leaned forward, pointing at a small grey box. "You put them into this slot and press this button, and the image comes up on the screen." He didn't press the button. "I think the colors correspond to the rooms. There's a green one in there now, and I think those come from that bed chamber."

"I see."

"Are you ready?" Raon asked. Duncan glared at him, and Raon, looking nervous but grim, reached forward and pressed the button.

The screen came to life with Daviona walking into the room. She went over to stand with her back to the bed, clearly waiting, and she was wearing something clingy and translucent. After a few moments, the doors opened and the guards filed in with Adam among them, naked and seemingly oblivious to the fact.

As the guards took up posts around the edges of the room, Daviona walked across and, resting her hand on his chest, kissed the prince for a moment. Adam's shoulders tensed, but he didn't otherwise move. His eyes were filled with an anguish that made Duncan's gut writhe. She drew back very slightly, her eyes glowing with power, a smile on her face. "By the Ancients," she said, "you are a positive battery! I'm never giving you up."

This clearly upset Adam, but she told him not to speak, then led him to the bed and gave him another drug, this one pink. Then they started . . . Duncan had trouble watching, and Raon turned his face away. Man-at-Arms forced himself to watch, to see what had happened, and it was indeed deeply disturbing, for after initial passivity, Adam began to join in and participate.

Duncan had no doubt that the drugs were driving him, but Raon had been right to seal this off. If the wrong person saw this, it would look very bad for Adam. As the encounter progressed, Duncan found himself growing more and more angry, with acid nausea building in his gut as well.

After the sex was over, Daviona left Adam alone. "This goes on for awhile," Raon said. "I saw a couple of others." Raon said, turning in the chair, his face mirroring his disgust and disturbance. "I looked first at a couple of blue ones. The one in the machine when I started was blue, you see, and it was in that clinic room, of her drawing a bunch of blood vials. Then I saw one of the guards massaging Adam with some kind of oil or lotion or something. It seems like it's activated by there being a person in the room." He looked around. "But these can't all be about Adam. I've got to wonder just how much and what all she's recorded."

Duncan tore his eyes from the image of Adam lying on that bed, alone and helpless, and looked around, noticing in particular the sheer amount of green on the racks. The woman was positively sick.

"Oh, and there's a recording of the king going in and getting Adam, it's all there." He pointed at another box on which there was a flashing light. "If you press this button, you can see what it's recording right now."

Duncan pressed the button and saw the medic methodically counting the vials out of the cupboard. "By the Elders," he said, horrified. "So every moment of Adam's stay here is recorded?"

"I'd guess so," Raon said. "So, do we try to take all this equipment away with us?"

"I'll have to consult with Randor on that first, and I'll also have to look very closely at the mechanism. I don't want to risk destroying it in the process." Raon nodded. "For now, and I hate to ask you this, but I know I can trust you. I want you to see if you can find all the ones that concern Adam and find some way to mark them."

"They all have numbers on their sides," Raon said. "I think that machine labels them as it creates them." He held up one of them to Duncan and he looked at the edge where the sergeant had pointed. "I looked, though, and I didn't find any sort of inventory. Maybe she kept it somewhere else or took it with her or something."

Duncan shook his head. "I don't know. In the meantime, we do need to know which of these things show Adam, so if you could start cataloging them, it would be greatly appreciated." He looked down at the piece of plastic in his hand. "Wait, this isn't a number exactly . . . I think it's a date and time."

Raon looked at the one in his hand. "I think you're right." He looked around at the racks. "Well, that should make it at least a little easier to find the ones of Adam."

Duncan nodded. "I'll leave you to it, then. And I'll be back later, to view them." He paused. "Give me an idea of what's on each of them, if you can. I don't know how many of them Randor's going to want to see."

"The king?" Raon exclaimed. "He – but he shouldn't have to see that!"

Man-at-Arms shrugged. "He's the king, Raon. Sometimes there are things he has to do." He grimaced. "And now I need to report in, and see how Adam is."

"Right." Raon shook himself. "I mean, right, sir."

Duncan went out and turned to Lieutenant Soha. "Sergeant Raon is beginning a detached duty as of this moment, Lieutenant. Get him everything he asks for and make sure he stays fed and watered."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm returning to Eternos to report and to get news on Prince Adam's condition. Do not allow anyone else in that room, and make sure that Raon opens the door himself. No one is to knock and just open it to give him things. He needs to be the one controlling when the door is opened."

"Yes, sir." Lieutenant Soha's eyes were wide and he nodded vigorously.

Duncan turned away and went to the surface where he found several of the masters on duty. "Have you heard any news from the palace, Man-at-Arms?" Ram-Man asked.

"No. I'm going back to report to Randor. I'll return as soon as I can with whatever news I can share."

* * *

Adam felt a vibration around him and he wondered what was causing it. He opened his eyes nervously, afraid to find Davi looking down at him, but instead he saw a blur that tried to resolve itself into his father's face. "Daddy?" he asked hesitantly.

The blur spoke, and though none of his words made sense, the voice was his father's. He cuddled up against him, glad to be where he was, even if they weren't home. Movement beside them made him jump and turn his head, and he saw a red and green and silver shape that could only be Mekanek. He subsided into his father's lap again and leaned against his chest.

He was tired, and the vibration, now that he knew he was with his father, was sort of comforting. He fell back asleep with a sigh.

* * *

Randor squeezed Adam tightly as the boy fell back into a more natural sleep. "Did he wake up?" Mekanek asked.

"Briefly," the king replied.

Glancing over his shoulder, Mekanek said, "Voren hasn't woken yet."

"He got the full dose, Adam didn't."

"Right." Mekanek faced forward again. "We should be landing anytime now."

"Has anyone called Marlena?" Randor asked.

"I haven't," Mekanek said. "I can't speak for anyone else."

Randor turned his head. "Teela, do you know if anyone called the queen?"

"I don't think so," she said.

He picked up his com link. "Has anyone even called Dorgan?" They both responded in the negative, so he activated his link and got Marlena on the line. "Dear? We found Adam."

"That's wonderful. When and where are you landing?"

He told her and then said, "Bring Dorgan with you to the landing site."

"Is Adam injured?"

Biting his lip, he considered what to say on an open frequency. "Not exactly."

She didn't respond immediately. "Understood. I'll go get Dorgan."

"And bring some blankets." She agreed and they disconnected.

They landed ten minutes later as near to the infirmary as they could get. Dorgan and Marlena were waiting with blankets and a float pallet. Mekanek climbed out and Randor handed Adam down to him. Marlena rushed up beside them and Randor gestured the medic handling the float pallet closer. Climbing into the back seat, he handed Voren down to him. "Get him to the infirmary. He's just had a sedative, so he should come out of it soon, all right?" The medic nodded and Randor jumped down to the ground, taking a blanket from Marlena and shaking it out. He wrapped Adam carefully in it, taking him from Mekanek. "Let's get him to where Dorgan can examine him." He turned to the healer. "Mekanek has the various drugs that were in Daviona's clinic. You'll have to get them analyzed." Dorgan nodded.

They made their way through cleared hallways to the infirmary, where Randor lay Adam down on a bed in a private ward. Marlena bent down over him and kissed his forehead. "Do we know what happened to him yet?" she asked, looking up.

Adam's eyes opened, and he said, "Mommy?" in that small voice. Marlena's eyes shot to his and he threw himself at her, throwing his arms around her. Randor felt his throat close up with sobs as Marlena's arms closed around their son.

"Sweetheart, you're safe, you're home," Marlena murmured, but Adam just clung to her.

"I need to examine him," Dorgan said, walking over to the bed, his stethoscope in hand.

At the sound of the healer's voice Adam turned his head to look at him. His eyes widened. "No! No!" he cried and seemed to burrow into Marlena.

Dorgan stopped dead and stared. "I need to get a look at you, Adam," he said softly. "You know me. I would never hurt you." Adam just clung to his mother and shook his head, eyes locked on the medical implement.

"I'm here, Adam," Marlena said. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"Dorgan," Randor said, leaning towards him. "Take off the stethoscope and put it on the counter behind you."

"What?"

"Just do it, man," Randor said firmly.

Dorgan followed his instructions and then walked toward Adam again. The boy made no further objections, and the healer started by ruffling his hair. "I need to get a look at you, my boy. You'll be all right."

Reluctantly, Adam released the death hold he had on his mother and allowed the blankets and the cloak to be removed. Marlena held his hand tightly, and Randor walked over and stood beside the bed, taking his son's other hand.

"Daddy?" he said, looking up, eyes wide.

"I'm here, Adam."

Dorgan made his examination as swift as possible, then he treated the few wounds on Adam's body, paying close attention to the burn – _the brand!_ – on his upper arm. He smeared a burn ointment on to it, gently wrapping the injury in a bandage before he helped Adam into a pair of infirmary pajamas. As soon as the healer stepped back, Adam leaned in against his mother again. She held him, stroking his hair gently. Dorgan drew Randor away.

"Well, the only injury I can find on him is that . . . that burn," Dorgan said. "Apart from a few minor abrasions and the needle marks, that is. But his heart rate is elevated, and he's clearly been devastatingly traumatized."

"What about the drugs in his system?" Randor asked.

"I'll need a blood sample for that," Dorgan said.

Randor blinked. "Blood . . . that would involve a needle, right?"

"Yes, it would have to. Why?"

"Adam panicked when we gave him a sedative shot while we were still in her clinic." He shook his head. "I'm not sure how he'll respond." Pursing his lips, Randor added, "He broke the needle off in his arm, he was so distressed."

Dorgan's eyebrows knit. "I have to have blood, Randor. We need to test it. I'll need blood, urine and stool samples from him."

Randor shook his head. "I don't know what . . . how . . ."

"We'll just have to be very gentle, and let's get the other samples first, if we can."

Randor nodded. Between them, Marlena and he managed to coax Adam into the privy to provide the required samples. Randor handed them out and helped Adam wash his hands. The boy was very shaky and unsteady on his feet, and he needed guidance to get the simplest things done. _What have these drugs done to him? Will he recover? Or will he be like this . . . forever?_ Anger filled him, but he kept his hands and manner gentle as he guided his son out of the privy and back to the bed.

Adam clung to him once he was on the bed again, and Randor sat down beside him. With them on the same surface, Adam climbed into his lap and hung on, his body trembling. While they were out of the room, Dorgan had gone and gotten the mechanisms for drawing blood, and Randor bit his lip. "Adam, son?" The boy looked up at him. "We have to do some testing, to find out what all is wrong with you." Adam nodded, but he wasn't sure how much the boy really comprehended of what he was saying. "Dorgan is going to draw some blood, but no one will hurt you."

Adam looked over at Dorgan, who smiled at him. The boy's eyes, however, seemed caught by the sight of the tray. "No needles!" he exclaimed, pulling back into Randor's arms. "Daddy?"

"No one is going to hurt you, Adam," Randor said. "I promise. He's just going to take some blood out of you so he can test it."

"Out?" Adam repeated, looking up. "Nothing in?"

"No," Randor said. "Nothing in."

Adam buried his face in his chest. "Okay," he said in a barely audible voice. Randor nodded at Dorgan who didn't need to be told twice. Adam's tremors grew more pronounced as Dorgan took his arm, but the healer was quick and sure, drawing off the blood he needed swiftly and removing the needle. He applied the bandage and then took the needle and the vials of blood out of the room. When the door shut, Adam's body tensed, then relaxed again. "Is that . . . is it done?"

"Yes, Adam," Randor said. "That's all."

Marlena slipped up onto the bed with them, crawling across to sit against Adam. "We love you, Adam," she said softly.

There was a scratching sound at the door, and then it opened to let the great green tiger inside. Randor could see Teela peeking around, but he shook his head. Flushing, the girl withdrew and shut the door again. Cringer clambered onto the bed and walked around Marlena, sniffing his boy. Adam turned at the weight on the bed and smiled tremulously at his pet.

"Cringer!" he cried, flinging his arms around the tiger's neck. Cringer started purring and licking what skin he could reach in that position. Randor leaned back out of the way of the reunion, and Marlena shifted so that she was sitting next to him at the head of the bed. They watched Adam clutch the tiger close.

"He's still shaking," Marlena observed in a very quiet voice. "How long is that going to last?"

"I wish I knew," Randor replied in like tones, taking her hand and squeezing.

Cringer drew back from the fierce embrace after a long while and licked Adam on the face. Grinning Adam reached out and scratched the tiger's cheek, but he seemed to be very tired. He looked over at his parents and crawled onto their laps and curled up, his head on Randor's thigh, and then he fell asleep. Cringer walked over, nuzzled him gently, then curled up around him, pinning the king and queen firmly on the bed.

* * *

Teela stood watch outside the infirmary room where Adam had been placed. She hadn't been told to, in fact no one had said much of anything to her at all, but she wasn't going to leave that post. Adam – this whole thing had been her fault. A few minutes before the attack, he'd asked if she'd noticed anything odd around them, but she had brushed the question off, putting it down to Adam's well known cowardice.

Then Beastman and Trap Jaw had come and carried him away, and now he was . . . she couldn't even guess what was wrong with him. She'd never seen him like this. He was clinging to his parents as if he were afraid they might disappear. She didn't know what to think, but she wasn't going to let just anyone into the room where he was, either.

The staff of the infirmary kept looking at her questioningly, but she ignored them. Dorgan had nodded, and that was enough for her to feel like she was doing the right thing. If the irascible old healer hadn't ordered her away, there must be a reasonable cause for her to be here. The fact that he evidently thought so made her even more worried about Adam.

So she stood, arms crossed, glaring at anyone who so much as looked toward the door.

When her father came in she looked at him, hoping for news that they had caught the vile creature who was responsible for the state Adam was in. He walked over to her. "Where's the king?" he asked softly.

"In there," she said, pointing over her shoulder. "But so is Adam. Is there any news?"

He grimaced. "Yes, but nothing I can share in public." She nodded, looking down. "I need to go in. Do you have orders not to let anyone in or something?"

She shook her head. "I don't have any orders at all," she said and then realized how forlorn she sounded. "I mean, I just stationed myself here, thinking someone should make sure no one who was just idly curious walked in."

"Good thinking," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I've got to see the king, though." She stepped aside. "Thank you, Teela. Keep up the good work, and I'll fill you in later."

He opened the door and went in, and Teela stepped back across the doorway, feeling marginally more like she was accomplishing something. But she wanted desperately to know what was wrong with Adam.

* * *

When Duncan walked in, Randor looked at his face and saw worry and news in it. He didn't want to discuss anything of a serious nature with Adam in the room, however, and he was pinned to the bed by the combined weight of his son and his son's pet.

"I'll stay with him, dear," Marlena said. "You need to find out what's going on."

He nodded and started to shift Adam so that he would be lying on a pillow when he was gone. His movement woke the boy, however, and he sat up. "Daddy?" he asked, reaching out to take his hand.

"I've got to go for a little while, son," he said.

Adam's eyes widened and he grabbed him around the waist. "No!" he cried. "No!"

"I'll be back, I promise," Randor said, stroking Adam's hair.

"I'll stay with you, Adam," Marlena said reaching around to gently disengage his arms. Adam looked over at her and allowed her to pull him away from his father. "I'll be here, and your father will be back." Adam nodded, tears coming to his eyes as he curled up against her side. "He'll be back soon," she said again.

Randor bent and kissed Adam on the cheek. Adam turned and hugged him tightly, then let go and leaned against his mother again. Feeling unutterably devastated by his son's regression to childhood, Randor followed Duncan out of the room. Teela was standing outside the door, apparently guarding it. He smiled at her and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, Teela," he said. "I'm glad Adam has friends he can count on."

Her eyes glistened with tears, but she just nodded and stood across the doorway again. Duncan led him off into one of the small patient counseling rooms along the side of the main infirmary room. Designed for confidential medical conversations, one of them should be sufficiently secure for whatever news Duncan had brought.

"Sire, I have a number of things to tell you, none of them pleasant," Duncan said by way of opening.

"I hadn't expected anything pleasant, Duncan," Randor replied. "Sit down."

They settled around the small table and Duncan looked down at the wood under his hands. "First, she took a number of samples of Adam's blood, and had begun to experiment with it. I'm not sure what she was doing, but I'm not that good a chemist. I figured I'd leave that up to one of the experts."

Randor nodded. "Go on," he said, feeling numb. _What more was she going to do to him? _

"And Raon found something important and deeply disturbing. He managed to seal it off before anyone else found it, thank the Elders."

"What?"

"She had some form of visual recording device set up in each of those rooms, constantly recording images when there were people inside the rooms. So it appears that everything that happened to Adam there is documented visually."

"And Raon found this?" Randor asked, feeling his heart skip a beat. "And he's the only one who's seen it?"

"He had the sense to seal it off, and his lieutenant had the sense to trust him when he said it was too hot to handle. I've got him seeking out all the recordings that concern Adam."

Randor shook his head slowly. "Why would she do such a thing?"

"I don't know," Duncan said. "But it's a system that's clearly been in place for a long time. The images are imprinted somehow onto little plastic squares about two inches to a side, and there were thousands of them in the room Raon found. He said there were more in a box in her room, as well."

"We have to find her," Randor said. "She can't be permitted to get away with this."

There was a knock on the door and Duncan, looking a bit irritated, went to get it. Two men stood there, Dorgan and Voren. Randor nodded at Duncan's interrogative look, and the man-at-arms stepped back to allow them to enter. The king looked at his chief healer and the man who'd been largely responsible for the swift recovery of his son and wished he could be more happy to see either of them. He had an uncomfortable suspicion, however, that neither of them bore good news.

"Please, sit down, both of you," Randor said. "Voren, I can't tell you how grateful I am for your help, especially with that sedative. It can't have been easy taking a shot in that place, not after what you've been through."

Voren shrugged, sitting down. "It was all a long time ago. It was harder looking on that face again. I spent twenty-three years utterly devoted to protecting and pleasing that creature, seeing her again was . . . distressing."

"I can imagine," Randor said.

"How is he?"

Randor looked down at the table. "Not good," he said. "Dorgan, what have you found?"

"The limited amount of testing I've had time for suggests that he has several competing chemicals in his system, largely mood altering in nature."

Voren nodded. "Well, the green is designed to cause his body to respond to sexual stimuli and to confuse the mind, leaving the person disoriented, with trouble concentrating. It also makes it impossible to initiate movement. The yellow . . ." He paused shaking his head. "That's one of the conditioning drugs," he said.

"What does the pink one do?" Duncan asked.

"Pink?" Voren's eyes widened. "I didn't see any signs in the clinic that she'd used the pink on him."

"It was in the bed chamber," Duncan replied. "What does it do?"

"It's a potent aphrodisiac," Voren said. "And a strong stimulant."

"Oh," Duncan said.

Closing his eyes, Randor bit his lip, controlling himself rigidly. _Aphrodisiac?_ His fists were clenched as he listened to them.

"What does the yellow do, though?" Dorgan asked. "You said it was a conditioning drug, but what effect does it have?"

"It makes a person very open to all the sounds around him, so she usually tries to control the environment very closely. It makes them emotionally vulnerable and very malleable. She would have followed its administration with . . . oh, words of affection, telling him she would take care of him, how much she depended on him, how much he depended on her . . . she would have worked on his mind to persuade him that she was the center of his world. Then she would have had sexual intercourse with him, while he was in that state of receptiveness, to seal the bond." Randor's head was sinking lower to the table, his fists clenching tighter. "With the younger boys, she just gets very motherly, but with a strong undercurrent of sexuality there. She trained us to want her from the start. But with an older boy, the sex starts immediately, and at sixteen, that's a powerful hook. It may have taken more than one treatment, but . . ." He paused and Randor stood up violently, turning away to stand in the corner, his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed emotion. "I'm sorry, sir," Voren said.

Randor shook his head. "No, I have to hear it," he said in a voice that shook. "I have to know." He swallowed. "Is that why he's acting so childlike?" he asked, turning around. "So desperate for reassurance, so in need of guidance?"

"I have no doubt that's the case," Voren said. "He certainly shouldn't be left alone in this condition. He needs contact with other people."

"His mother is with him," Randor said, gulping. Duncan looked as dismayed as he felt. "And Cringer, his pet tiger."

"Good, but you need to be careful what you say around him. Things could take root now that would be difficult to change later, and any chance comment could cause problems."

Randor nodded, grimacing. "All we've been saying is that we're with him, that we won't let anyone hurt him, and that he's safe."

Voren opened his mouth and then closed it again, looking perplexed. "I'd think that's all right, but I don't know enough about the way the mind works. Just be calm and reassuring, and I think you'll be all right, and limit the people who are allowed in with him."

"We've been doing that," Randor said.

"How long will this state last?" Dorgan asked.

"It's hard for me to say," Voren said, shaking his head. "Time passes differently down there." The healer's eyes widened, and Voren hastened to say, "Not literally. But when you're on drugs all the time, drugs that lessen the need for sleep, that change your perception of the world around you, it changes the way you understand time." He sighed. "I spent twenty-three of my fifty-five years with her, and that's all. But . . ." He shrugged. "Let's just say I feel like I look my age."

They were all silent for a moment, then Dorgan stood up. "I'm nowhere near done with my testing, I just wanted to let you know my initial findings."

Randor looked up. "Just a moment, Dorgan." The healer, brows knit, sat down again. The king looked over at Voren. "Do you know how to deal with the other young men, the current set of guards?"

Voren blinked. "Well, they'll have to be closely watched. The center of their universe has been removed from them, so they may attempt suicide. And the drugs will have to be administered to them until a reasonable plan for weaning them off them can be devised."

"Which drugs?" Dorgan asked.

Voren shrugged. "They know. Give them access and they'll take care of themselves for now. They always have. She does the bare minimum herself." He shook his head. "She trained us to keep each other under control. It was . . ." He swallowed, turning away. "It was a perfect system for her. Once she got us trained, she didn't have to lift a finger."

"Are any of those drugs lethal?"

Dorgan shook his head at Randor's question. "The proper question is how readily can any of those drugs be made lethal, and is any one of them actually a poison?"

Voren looked thoughtful. "No one was ever given more than two doses of any one drug in a twenty-four hour period that I ever saw," he said. "And yes, there is a poison. That's how she got rid of us when we got too old for her purposes." His eyes were very distant. "I did it once. I didn't know what was happening at the time, but I did it once." He took in a deep breath and sighed. "She told Micah to go lie down on his bed, and then she told me to give him the red." He bit his lip, and the rest of them sat transfixed by the story he was telling. "I'd never given anyone the red before, but I didn't wonder what it was for. You just . . . didn't. I went in and gave it to him, and three hours later he was gone. She burned the body and told us that he had died." His fingers were twitching. "Others had died before, and I'd heard her order someone else to do it before, I mean, give the red. But I made the connection suddenly. It took another year for me to realize what was going on, and then she told Timon to go lie down, and she told me to give him the red." Randor was stunned by this tale . . . Voren's voice was calm, almost disinterested, but his face was a mask of unbearable pain. "She left into her own quarters, and the others were all eating a meal. I went into the clinic and I took as many of the drugs I needed to go on as I could, then I snuck out of the compound." He shook his head wonderingly. "I don't know how I did it, I doubt it had ever happened before. But I'm certain that Timon died that day." He lapsed into silence and Randor reached across the table to squeeze his hand.

"You saved seven young men, today," he said. "My son, and her current squad of victims. Without you, we would not have found them so quickly."

Duncan's com unit bleeped. He raised an eyebrow at Randor who nodded. Activating the device, he said, "Go ahead."

"Man-at-Arms?" It was the lieutenant he'd left at the site. _Soha?_ Randor thought, then nodded. _Yes, Soha._ "We've found another secret passage off that central room. This one has several rooms . . . sir, there are two little boys here, one about twelve, the other . . . maybe fourteen or fifteen."

"Elders," Voren breathed, burying his face in his hands. "Of course there were others . . ." he murmured.

"There was another pair of the young men with them, some sort of caretakers, I'd guess, and four more guys asleep. We had to knock all the adults out like the others, but the kids are absolutely terrified. What do you want us to do with them?"

Randor sank into a chair, shaking his head, utterly stunned. "Dorgan?" he asked.

"Let me get one of the isolation wards ready," the healer said. "I . . ." he shook his head, looking as though he felt at a loss. "Voren, who looks after these children in the normal course of events?"

"The rest of us," Voren said. "She would spend time with each of us regularly, but most of our time was spent with each other." He shook his head. "We're going to have to find a way to provide them with guidance, with routine." His eyes grew worried. "I need Lithi."

The expression on his face had suddenly become so desperate, so lost, that Randor jumped to his feet and went to the door. "Someone, find Lithi and bring her here." Within moments, she bustled in and sat down next to Voren who, taking her hand, immediately calmed down.

"I'm sorry, your highness," Voren said, looking up at Randor as he sat down again. "I still have . . . moments where I'm . . . when I need . . ." He sighed. "The effects of what happened to me have proven to be long-lasting."

Duncan's com unit bleeped again. "Sir, I'm sorry, what do I do with these kids? They're clinging to each other, absolutely terrified."

"Sedate them," Voren said. "The lavender. Use the needles they're familiar with. Have a young man do it, they won't have seen anyone older than around twenty for as long as they've been there."

"Did you get that, Soha?" Duncan asked.

"Yes sir. Will do."

"How are we going to manage this?" Randor asked. "That's twelve young men and two children who have been conditioned into this lifestyle. How do we bring them out of it? How did you come out of it?"

"Well, first of all, I wanted out. I left. When I started trying to live on my own, I had already broken the conditioning to some extent. None of these fellows has. And I'd like to point out that most of them are likely not young men."

"What do you mean?"

"Some of the drugs, and some of the magic for that matter, is designed to keep them from aging at a normal rate. Some of those men in there may be as old as you and I. I didn't get a close look at any of them during the fighting, but it's possible that a few of them were even there at the same time I was."

Randor shook his head, utterly undone. In recovering Adam they had discovered an unbelievable, horrifying mess that had been there for more than twenty years. _The Elders only know how long Daviona has been . . . no, the Elders didn't know either._ Randor blinked. _They would never have let that go on. So only Daviona knows how long she's been at this . . . and how do we clean it up?_


	7. Guilt Enough to Go Around

**Chapter 7 – Guilt Enough to Go Around**

Daviona sat cross-legged in the middle of the central room of her original home base, the one she'd left abandoned now for two centuries. It was dusty and musty, and empty of life. She'd used just enough energy to get its basic systems up and running again, but other than that she was conserving power. She would have to for a time, for which she cursed Randor and Skeletor equally.

She would have to start over building her power base. Her eyes narrowed. It was all Randor's fault, though Skeletor had contributed. When she had sufficient power, both those men would pay.

More than four centuries previously, there had been a young fellow, a handsome boy of about seventeen, who had become, quite accidentally, infatuated with her. At that time she had been a relatively ordinary wizardess, interested in alchemy and the related arts of chemistry and transmutation. But Darien had been most insistent and very sweet. She'd been reading up on how sexual energy could be harnessed for magical purposes, so she finally decided that Darien was the perfect test subject. He adored her and would not willingly reveal her secrets to anyone.

So she took him to her bed and made an incredible discovery. Power gained by sexual means came at no cost to the user, in fact, it seemed to pour into her and make her stronger and more full of life. It had completely worn poor Darien out, but she'd gotten the seeds of an idea.

The ultimate culmination of that idea was the system that Randor had just disrupted after centuries of smooth operation. She'd been so careful, so very discreet, that there weren't even folktales about her, a fact she took great pride in. Not even Skeletor knew just who he was dealing with. He only knew that she was a wizardess who had been wronged by Randor.

She wondered how Skeletor would respond to her treatments. He wasn't a normal human, so it might be interesting to see . . . but he would have to suffer before he died. Just as Randor would suffer. That boy, however, that young Adam, he would be the centerpiece of her new line of servants.

She had no doubt whatsoever that Randor would disrupt the training and conditioning of the current batch too much for them to be retrievable. But Adam, his training had barely begun, and he was never to have been like the others.

"The power he has . . . the sheer strength and resilience of it . . ." She'd had him for less than four days, but she yearned for him already. When those villains had come in and destroyed her way of life, she'd barely had time to seize her notes, her basic tools and a vial of the boy's blood, and that had been an afterthought.

"So where do I start?" she asked, filling the room around her with sound. "I'll need a store of drugs before I can get properly started again, and that requires three things. Money, time and power." Money she had stored here in a secret cache. She'd grown careless, or she'd have been better prepared for such an attack. Two hundred years ago she would never have been caught out that easily, and if she had, she would have had a better fall back position. Time she had in abundance.

Power . . . well, she could still tap the energy sources in the complex, but that would last only so long. But she also had a link, a connection to a much greater power source. Give him a day or two to recover from the stress of the rescue . . . and then Prince Adam would grant her what she needed to take hold again.

Skeletor didn't know it, but he had given her a gift worth more than all the gold on the planet of Eternia. Young Adam had more power in him than she'd ever seen, and it regenerated overnight. With him, she'd have enough power . . . to do anything . . .

* * *

Adam lay on his side, not sure yet if he wanted to open his eyes. He tried to analyze the presences he could feel on the bed around him. He shifted slightly, and a purr started in the warmth that was curled up against his back. _Cringer?_

He opened his eyes and realized that he was using someone's lap for a pillow. He could see a hand resting on a white-clad thigh, wearing rings he recognized. "Mother?" he said, sitting up.

"Adam?" She smiled at him, and he saw that she was sitting against the headboard of the bed. Her eyes had weary bags under them and she looked very tired. "How are you feeling?"

He began to feel a little nervous. _Something's missing. _"Where's Dad?" he asked.

"Here I am," his father said and Adam turned to see that his father was also sitting on the bed with Cringer lying across his legs. He'd put his armor and boots aside and was sitting there in a pale undershirt and his trousers. It seemed he'd been using his mother for a pillow and his father for a backrest. His father glanced over at his mother, then back at Adam and said, "So, how are you feeling?"

"Like I've been asleep for three days," Adam said, stretching. "I'm so stiff."

"Well, it hasn't been three days, quite," his father said. "You've been asleep most of the time for a day and a half."

Adam knit his brows, rubbing his forehead. He also had a headache. "Why have I been –" Memory came back in a rush and he felt all the blood drain out of his face. Both his parents leaned forward, his father shoving Cringer aside to reach him.

"Adam, are you all right?"

"Adam, what's wrong?"

He shook his head, unable to respond. _Davi . . . it couldn't have been a dream, Mother and Father wouldn't be in . . . an infirmary room?_ "How long was I gone?" he asked.

"Nearly four days," his father said. "Adam, what . . . what can I do?"

Adam shook his head again, pulling his knees up to his chest and clasping them in his arms. "It really happened? I was sold at auction and . . . Davi . . . she had me?" His body responded to the thought of Davi, and he clutched his knees tighter, trying to control that physiological response. He didn't want her, so why did his body think he did? His father nodded in response to his question, his eyes deep with sympathy. Adam didn't know what to say, what to do. He looked down at his right arm, and saw that there was a bandage there, right where the brand had been placed. His left arm was still sore where all the needles had gone in. He rested his forehead on his knees. The rest of him felt . . . stiff and sore . . . like he'd been engaging in a lot of unaccustomed activity. _Like sex?_ He shuddered. His body was more than sore, it was . . . it was craving.

"Adam, talk to us," his mother begged.

He gulped and looked up. "What's there to say?" he asked. His stomach was doing flip flops. "Do you know . . . I mean, did you find out what happened to me?" They nodded. _They know . . . they know what she did to me . . . _"Then what do you want me to talk about?" They didn't say anything right away, and he slid off the bed. "I have to use the privy," he said. His father made to follow him, and Adam had a dim, fuzzy recollection of that happening several times over the last couple days. "I can manage," he said, stepping into the privy and shutting the door behind him. He did his business, then turned and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes had black bags under them, too, and he looked like hell. He looked down at his left arm and he could see the holes from all the shots.

Reaching up with his left hand, he loosened the bandage on his right arm and pulled it off, revealing the brand. The skin was still tender, and slightly swollen, and there were scabs and the remains of fallen blisters, but the shape was clear, though he had trouble figuring out just what it was supposed to mean. At first glance it looked like an hourglass inside a large letter 'D', but he wasn't sure. Picking up a washcloth from the countertop, he gently wiped the lingering traces of ointment off of it, hissing at the pain he caused himself. The burn was still pink, but the skin that wasn't scabbed over had that shiny quality to it that bespoke a burn scar. _Or a brand._ He shook his head.

How had she described it? A reminder that he was hers, something he could look at and remember. Oh, he'd remember, all right, but he didn't think she'd approve of what he remembered. What his body remembered, though . . . he hated the feelings that were coursing through him, feelings – sensations that he didn't want. He reached up and grabbed the burn, squeezing until the pain blotted everything else out. There was a knock on the privy door, and he let go.

"Adam?" his father called. "Adam, are you all right?" He opened the door and walked out. His father's eyes darted to the brand. "That should still be bandaged, son, surely."

Adam shook his head. "Burns need air," he said.

His father started to argue, but his mother shook her head. "We'll have Dorgan take a look at it later," she said.

"It's bleeding, Marlena," Randor said. "Something's broken open." He grabbed up a piece of cotton gauze and pressed it gently against Adam's arm.

There was an odd, queasy feeling in Adam's gut as he thought about being 'looked at.' He grit his teeth and took over control of the pressure on his arm. "It's fine," he said, trying to sound as if it were true. His parents exchanged worried looks. "Why was I asleep for so long?" he asked.

"You were really tired," Randor said. "And you had some drugs in you that made it easier for you to be asleep to cope with things than to be awake."

Adam closed his eyes. "Right, drugs. Green and then yellow." His father's eyes widened. "So, do we know yet what they did to me?"

Randor nodded. "We have some idea," he said. "Dorgan's still analyzing them."

Adam nodded and walked over to the bed. He sat down on the edge and his mother put her arm around him. Cringer rolled over against his hip. His father walked over and pulled up a chair, sitting down right in front of him. He felt very weird with both his parents so close. "So, where is she?" he asked.

His father didn't meet his eyes as he spoke. "She got away. We retrieved all the guards, but she escaped."

For a moment, it was like the world stopped. _She got away? Where is she? Will she come back for me?_ He shook his head, trying to get back in control, but his thoughts went racing on, and his body had its own ideas about this news. _Can they stop her? Will they find her? Does she still want me? She said . . . she said . . ._ "She said she was never going to give me up," he said, his voice sounding shrill and childish in his own ears.

"We won't let her have you back, Adam," his father said, grabbing his hands. "We won't."

Adam nodded, knowing his father believed it to be true. "I know. But what if you can't stop her?" he asked.

"We'll stop her," his father said, squeezing his hands. "We've already stopped her once."

The prince sat still, his mother on one side, his cat on the other, and his father in front of him. He was deep in the royal palace, with military forces on guard outside, the masters on patrol, but he didn't feel remotely safe.

"Is Teela okay?" he asked suddenly, eyes going wide with alarm as he realized he still didn't know. "Trap Jaw and Beastman left her tied up in the forest! Is she okay?"

"Yes," his father said. "We found her very quickly. She managed to get her distress beacon activated."

Adam sighed in relief, but then a stray thought niggled at him. "Quickly?" he repeated, his brows drawing together. "But then why did it take you so long to find me?" His father blanched a pasty white and his mother's arm tightened around him, and he realized that had come out wrong. "I didn't mean that . . . I mean, I didn't want . . . I'm not upset . . . please don't be angry with me." Then, to his complete embarrassment, he burst into tears. After a moment's confusion, he flung himself into his father's arms. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that!"

"It's all right, son," his father said, stroking his hair and holding him tightly. "I – we tried, we looked for you everywhere."

"I know," Adam said, his voice muffled in his father's shirt. "Davi told me. She said you'd never find her."

"Well, she was wrong," Randor said firmly. "I'm sorry it took so long, son."

Adam shook his head. "I wasn't angry, I –"

"It's all right," his father said. "It's all right." Adam closed his eyes and let himself be comforted. A part of him felt like a fool, blubbering into his father's chest, but he couldn't control it.

Finally, he was able to draw back and sit on the bed again, the tears having run their course. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that," he said, flushing.

"Don't worry about it, Adam," his mother said. "You've been through a lot."

Adam shuddered. "But it was just sex, right?" he asked. "Just sex . . ."

"It was rape, Adam," his father said, his eyes boring into Adam's. "You've been badly traumatized, and your reactions are perfectly normal."

Adam shook his head. "Men can't be raped," he said. "That's . . . surely that's not possible."

His mother touched his chin and turned his face to hers. "You were forced to have sex against your will. What form the force took doesn't matter, you were forced. Don't ever think otherwise, and if anyone tells you otherwise, they're mistaken at best and lying at worst." His mother's eyes seemed to mesmerize him and he nodded.

"All right," he said, tearing his gaze from hers. His father had an odd look on his face, but Adam didn't know how to interpret it.

"So, are you hungry? Do you want to see Teela?" Adam nodded twice, smiling slightly. He wanted to be sure for himself that Teela was all right, and when his stomach rumbled, he realized that part of the queasiness he was feeling was a lack of solid food. His father got up and went to the door. "Teela, come in, he wants to see you."

Adam turned on the bed so that he was facing the door. Maybe with Teela he could be normal. Maybe –

The thought died as she entered the room, a shy smile on her face. One look at her, those long shapely legs, the way her uniform fit her body, the breasts he'd never paid any attention to before, even her scent that wafted across the room . . . and he turned his back on her, burying himself in his mother's arms. His body was reacting to Teela's presence, and he couldn't bear it. He didn't want to think of her that way.

* * *

Randor stared in shock as Adam let out a hoarse cry and he turned away, throwing himself on his mother. Marlena wrapped her arms around him, eyes baffled even as she started trying to comfort him. He was even less prepared for the muffled cry of distress that emerged from Teela. Then she burst into tears and ran from the infirmary. Feeling very torn, he looked at Marlena who gestured that he should go after the girl.

He shut the door behind him and chased Teela, surprised to find that she was running out into the gardens rather than to her rooms. It was late evening, and with the cold snap the gardens were largely deserted, but he was surprised that she would seek out so public an environment.

He followed her all the way into the garden that abutted on Adam's former nursery, and it started to make sense when he found her standing, looking at the inside of a bush that the two of them had used as small children as anything from a fort to a play house.

She apparently heard him walk up behind her, because she said, "I don't fit."

"You've grown a bit since then," he said, putting his arm around her shoulder. "Teela, are you all right?"

"He hates me!" she burst out. "He can't stand the sight of me!"

For a brief moment, Randor wanted to shake her and tell her she was being a fool and childish, but then he realized that it wasn't at all a fair reaction. She had not been raped – thank the Elders – but she had been badly traumatized, and no doubt felt, just as he did, guilty for not protecting Adam enough.

He guided her to a nearby bench and glanced up at Duorno, who was standing in the entrance to this part of the gardens. Duorno had been his bodyguard for long enough now that he understood the silent message and turned his back, prepared to oust all comers.

"Teela, I don't think that's the case," he said, settling down with his arm around her shoulders.

Her tears were silent, but they were flowing unceasingly down her face. "You saw him," she said, her voice choked. "He saw me and he – he –"

"His reaction may have more to do with what has been done to him than with you, Teela," he said.

"What?" she said perplexedly, looking up at him. "I know he's been tortured, but why would that make him react like that to me?"

Randor stared down at the girl's face, realizing abruptly that she had not been told what had happened to Adam in that harpy's clutches. After Voren's revelations, they'd had a meeting with many of the masters, but Randor hadn't included her. She was so much younger, a bare few months older than Adam, and he hadn't felt it was appropriate. Now, however . . . he didn't really have much choice.

"Teela, I . . . Adam was being held by a woman, I know you were told that, right?" She nodded. "Her name is Daviona, and she is . . . well, she has . . . um . . ."

"What?" Teela's eyes were dry now, and he had all of her attention.

He looked down at his hands. "He was raped, Teela," he said. "She gave him drugs and possibly cast spells that controlled his behavior, and then she forced him to have sex with her."

She was silent, and he looked into her eyes to find devastation. "Raped?" she repeated, her voice low and broken. "She raped him?"

"Yes. I know it's hard to understand, but –" She was shaking her head. "What is it?"

"I'll kill that evil, wretched, vicious –" As she spoke, she rose to her feet, her hands clenching into fists. "He – he was a virgin!"

Randor's eyes flew wide. He hadn't even considered that aspect of things. "What?"

"Didn't you know?" Teela asked, sinking back down, her anger visibly dropping from a boil to a simmer. She kept talking, her voice low and broken. "We were talking . . . it came up. He's never . . . and now . . . but why would he react that way to me? He's not afraid of me, is he? Because a woman attacked him?" She turned wide, appealing eyes on his face, as if begging him to say that it wasn't so.

"I'm not sure what caused that reaction, Teela. I didn't stop to ask him, and I'm not sure he'll be able to put it into words when I do. But I don't think it was a reaction to his old friend Teela. He was very eager to see you until . . . he actually saw you."

She nodded. Then, in a very small voice, she said, "I failed him."

He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. "No more than I did," he said. "You're in good company, my dear."

"But I was there," Teela blurted. "And he said, he actually said, a little bit before the attack, that he thought there was something wrong. And I thought he was being silly. I ignored it, and . . . and . . . then they attacked and if I'd paid more attention . . ."

Randor took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "When we look back, we always see things more clearly, Teela. There's nothing anyone can do to rectify errors we've made in the past."

She sniffled, and said, "No, I guess not."

"There are things I could have done that might have prevented this, and we can't ever know if different actions would actually have changed the outcome." Her face crumpled and she leaned against him and started crying again. "I'm sorry, I wish I could say something more comforting, but we simply have to take where we are and move on, doing whatever we can to help Adam to cope."

"What can I do?" she asked in a watery voice.

"I don't know yet," he said honestly. "But as soon as I do know, I will tell you. In the meantime, guarding the door was an excellent notion. It turns out that it might have damaged Adam if anyone had come in at a random moment over the last few days. You took that upon yourself without orders, and it was most definitely the right thing to do."

"I'm glad," she said. "But . . ." Her watery, red-rimmed eyes widened. "There's no one there now! I've got to get back."

"I'm going back, Teela, but you need to pull yourself together first. You should go to your room, wash your face and then come back. All right?"

She nodded and he stood up. "Things will get better," he said. "We'll make sure of it."

"I'm sorry I overreacted, your majesty," she said, standing up.

"I should have told you more about what was going on sooner. Now, no more apologies."

He watched her go into the building, then returned to the infirmary.

* * *

Adam felt wretchedly dirty. He couldn't believe that he was having thoughts like that about Teela. It was wrong . . . it was vile . . . it was nasty. What had Davi done to him to make him behave like that?

His mother was stroking his hair and had been for some time. "Adam, what's wrong?"

"I'm turning into a monster!" Adam exclaimed. He pulled away and looked his mother in the eyes. "I – I just – Davi turned me into a monster!"

"There is nothing wrong with you, Adam!"

"I was looking at – I was thinking about –" He was shaking. "I was looking at Teela's . . . breasts. And I was . . . I wanted . . ."

"Adam, that's normal!" his mother exclaimed. "There's nothing –"

"No, it's monstrous!" He pulled away. "She's practically my sister and I . . ."

"It's normal. She is a very pretty girl, Adam, you were bound to notice that fact sooner or later."

"She's not a girl!" Adam cried. "She's Teela! I shouldn't notice her body . . . I shouldn't be thinking about what it would be like to . . ." _I'm vile, I'm a monster._ He pulled away from his mother, realizing that he shouldn't be touching her. _What can I . . . what should I . . ._ His eyes fell on a drawer in the medical counter across the room and he jumped up. Running across he pulled it open, finding exactly what he needed. He pulled the scalpel out and held out his wrist.

"Adam, no!" His mother tackled him from behind, trying to pull the razor sharp knife out of his hand. He managed to make a small cut in his wrist before she started pulling.

"Mother, please, I deserve to die. I'm vile!" She was stronger than he had ever realized and she dragged him backwards to the floor, finally forcing him to let go of the scalpel. He shook his head. "I'm horrible, Mother! You should be glad to be rid of me. I need to die. I need to!"

* * *

Randor opened the door to Adam's infirmary room onto a scene out of nightmares. His son and his wife lay on the floor, her arms wrapped around him, both of them weeping. There was blood on the floor, on both of them, on their clothing, and on a scalpel that lay on the floor.

He stared for a moment in appalled shock. Then he stuck his head out the door and grabbed the nearest medic. "Get Dorgan now, no one else." He turned to Duorno. "Don't let anyone but Dorgan in here until I tell you otherwise."

"Man-at-Arms?" Duorno asked in surprise.

"No one!" He shut the door in the bodyguard's face and went to his family. First he picked up the scalpel and dropped it out of the way in the sink. Then he knelt down beside Marlena and Adam. The boy was muttering something about dying.

She looked up and bit her lip. "He tried to – to –"

He nodded. "Let's get you both off the floor. Whose blood is it?"

"Some of both, I'm afraid," she said, allowing him to take Adam from her and looking down at the cuts on her arms. The door opened and Dorgan sidled in. He turned and took in the scene with wide eyes, but he did not speak, for which Randor was devoutly grateful.

He did, however, move immediately into action. He crossed to Adam and gently forced his arms open, examining both arms and his legs, peering under his shirt at his torso. Pulling a couple of things out of a pocket, he slapped a piece of gauze over the shallow cut on Adam's arm and wrapped tape around to hold it in place. Then he turned to Marlena, leaving Randor to cope with Adam's distress.

He pulled Adam tightly into his arms and started speaking to him. "I love you, Adam."

The boy shook his head. "No, no!" he said.

"Adam, I love you. Nothing that's happened could change that. I love you and your mother loves you. Nothing that's happened is your fault." He just kept that up, trying to drown out Adam's mutters of disagreement. After awhile, Marlena joined them on the bed, putting her arms around their son as well.

"Adam, honey, you're not a monster, you're not! You've done nothing wrong. Don't do this to yourself. I love you and I know you're a good boy. You're Mommy's good boy."

They kept this up nearly an hour, until Adam said, "I'm sorry." He finally sounded rational, but Randor shook his head.

"No apologies, Adam. You've done nothing wrong."

"I hurt Mom," he said. "And I scared her."

"And you're not going to do it again," Marlena said firmly. "I love you, Adam. You know I love you."

"I love you, too. But what I thought about Teela –"

"Is perfectly natural, Adam. The chemicals in your system may have sped up your noticing, but I've been expecting it for some time." Marlena wiped some of Adam's tears away. "There is nothing wrong with noticing that Teela is an exceptionally pretty girl."

"But –"

"But nothing. She is pretty, and she is a girl. It's normal and healthy for you to have . . . well . . . thoughts."

Randor blinked. "Yes, it is," he said. _Is that why he reacted that way? He had _thoughts_ about Teela?_

"But it's Teela!" Adam exclaimed.

"That doesn't change anything, Adam," Marlena said.

"No, son, it doesn't. Those kind of thoughts are perfectly natural. Every young man gets them."

"Really?" Adam said, looking up. "I haven't before. Does that mean I wasn't being normal?"

Fortunately, since both parents were looking stymied by this question, Dorgan stepped in. "It's natural to have those thoughts, it's natural not to. Don't place such an emphasis on thoughts, my boy. That's as individual as anything else."

Adam hung on the healer's words as if they were his hope of salvation. "Really?"

"Really. Now, I need to get a look at that burn. It looks like it's been bleeding, too."

"That's because I squeezed it," Adam said absently, and all three adults looked at him in startlement.

Dorgan found his voice first. "What?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

"I was . . . I was thinking about Davi," Adam said. "And I started . . . having feelings, and I didn't want them. So I grabbed the burn and the pain made them go away."

"Adam, honey, you mustn't hurt yourself," Marlena said. "That's not a good thing to do."

"On purpose," Randor said hastily. "You mustn't hurt yourself on purpose." He was clearly still suggestible, for he nodded gravely. Dorgan was still treating the burn, but Randor could see that he was simmering quietly. He went out, and Randor reached out and hugged Adam to him. "I love you," he said. "I love you more than I can say."

* * *

Duncan sat in a chair that he had brought into the viewing room. He and Raon were systematically watching all of what had happened to Adam in this wretched place. It had not been pleasant. Daviona's behavior towards Adam had been disturbingly and overtly sexual from the start. When they saw Adam make his dash for freedom on that first night, they had both groaned at the sight of that door opening on wall. Adam had gone from openly defiant to hopeless in a very short span of time, clearly partially as an effect of the drugs, but just as clearly he was waiting for rescue every minute . . . rescue that didn't come.

Once they got into the sexual activity on the first morning of Adam's stay, Duncan had reached out and stopped the images.

"What?" Raon had asked. "It's dreadful, but shouldn't we just get it over with?" He sounded both angry and distressed, but Duncan shook his head.

"That's not why I'm stopping it," he said. "Did you noticed that Adam's arm looked different?"

"No," Raon said. "How different?"

"There's a sequence missing . . . Let me see the time marking on that one." They'd compared the time markings and had worked out that there was definitely at least one missing. So Raon had started collating the times, making sure that there weren't any more big gaps while Duncan had gone to fetch the box from her room. There he found a smaller viewer. He'd popped out the plastic square that was within and found that it was blue. He made a quick search of the room, found no more, and, picking up the box, he'd returned to where Raon was waiting.

Now they watched what had to be Adam's first morning in the clinic. It had progressed fairly tamely – for this place – up till the point when Daviona walked in. She'd ordered him off the table, then she'd gone to a locked cupboard and opened it. Duncan watched, mouth growing dry, as she pulled out a small object about four inches by two. Flicking a switch on the side, she watched it heat up to a cherry red.

"What's she doing?" Raon asked.

"Did I mention she branded him?" Duncan replied. Raon's response was emphatic, monosyllabic and profane.

Behind her, they could see a pair of the guards carefully placing Adam's right arm into a restraining device that looked particularly effective. It clamped his arm firmly, and had straps going across the top of the shoulder. Since it was attached solidly to the chair, this meant that Adam's arm was completely immobilized.

She turned and let him see what she had in her hands, and Duncan could see Adam begin to panic. He watched, his fists clenching, his jaw aching from how tightly he had grit his teeth, as she lightly told the prince that she was marking him as 'her property.'

Both men winced as she pressed the brand against Adam's arm and the boy let out an incredible scream of pain. But the moment that sent Duncan over the top into a towering rage was when she told her guard to give Adam an anesthetic _after_ she'd burned him. Evidently she didn't want her toy making noises about how much it hurt while she played with him.

"Callous monster!" he spat, consciously refraining from activating his hand cannon. All he could do at the moment was destroy the screen, which would be counterproductive.

Raon lifted his head from the paper in front of him where he'd been compiling a timeline of what had happened to Adam. "What was the purpose of branding him without giving him the anesthetic? Why would she do something like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she wants these fellows to be devoted to her, right? So why would she deliberately, and with clear intent, torture Adam like that? It would seem to get her the opposite of what she wants. Somehow I don't think her goal was for him to call her names and threaten her death."

"I don't think Adam was intended to be one of her servants," Duncan said. "She was clearly keeping him separate from all the others, and I'd guess that's not normal from the looks of their quarters."

Raon shook his head. "I peeked at some of all the different colors while I was trying to find the ones of Adam. The guards actually lived pretty normally. Their lives were very strongly regimented, and the morning and evening doses of whatever it was don't fit, but in their off time, they talked and played games, and played with the children . . . it wasn't anything like what she was doing to Adam."

"Really?" Duncan said. "Then she did have something different planned, I'd expect. I wish we had a journal or something. Some kind of log of her plans."

Raon stared up at the blank screen. "Where do you suppose she went?" he asked.

"I haven't a guess," Duncan replied. "Wherever it is . . . I hope she dies horribly." They were silent. "That was in a viewer that she controlled from her bed." He could see that Raon found this as offensive as he did. "So, did she record everything that went on in this complex?" Duncan asked.

Raon nodded. "Nearly everything, anyway. I haven't found anything that's a record of her personal bedroom or bathing chambers, or in here, but her lab is recorded. And anywhere the men went is recorded."

Duncan shook his head. "She must have been observing to see what worked and what didn't."

"And who was getting out of control," Raon said. "It's really creepy."

Orko floated up from under the table top where the equipment was set up. "Man-at-Arms? I think I've figured out how to move this power source and the equipment without disrupting it or damaging it." Sergeant Raon had been very surprised when Duncan had brought the jester in to help out, but Duncan didn't have another magic-user on tap. The Sorceress couldn't leave Grayskull with Skeletor so intent on getting in, and even if she could, her powers were linked to the ancient fortress.

"Are you sure, Orko?" Duncan asked. "I don't want to get this back to the palace and find that it doesn't work."

"I'm sure," Orko said, putting his hands on his hips. Or at least Duncan assumed those were his hips. "It will all have to be moved as it is right now, though. Nothing can be shifted out of alignment." He looked over. "Except that," he said, pointing at the recording device. "It's not in the same system, and it's not powered by the same source. She's got a bunch of little sources all around down here, all feeding off the main power bubble."

"Is there some way to give it a less arcane power supply?"

"I don't know," Orko said, tapping his hat thoughtfully. "It might be possible, but I don't know how you'd do it." He shrugged. "I can keep the power going myself, by feeding it. Oh, the main power bubble is draining, by the way. I'd guess she hasn't been feeding it since she left."

"How was she feeding it?" Man-at-Arms wondered aloud.

The Trollan shrugged. "Sex magic," he said matter-of-factly. Then he started to look a little uneasy. "Which means . . . all this power came from those guys . . . and Adam."

Duncan felt himself grow cold. They'd been watching this in a lighted, heated, well-ventilated space that was created by a vampiric draining of their prince's life energy during forced sex acts. Which was part of what they had watched. He felt sick to his stomach, but he gulped it down. "It can't be helped," he said, and his voice sounded unnatural to his own ears. Raon's skin was a pasty white, and Duncan reached forward to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. "It can't be helped, son," he said.

"I hate that parasite!" Raon growled. "I want to be there when she's found, so I can grind her into – into –"

Duncan squeezed again. "I know, Raon. I know."

"What are we going to do with all of this?" Raon burst out. "Where – what – this has got to be a century's worth of recordings."

Orko floated over to the screen. "The energy bubbles that power this device have been in place for a hundred and fifty years," he said. "The main energy bubble has been in place for just over two centuries."

"So she's been active for two hundred years?" Raon exclaimed.

"Probably longer," Orko said. "You don't build power sources like the ones here when you're just starting out."

"Have you got a guess how much longer?" Duncan asked.

The Trollan floated silently for a few moments. "At least fifty years, but maybe longer. How old does she look, by human terms?"

"Early twenties," Duncan said, knitting his brows.

"So, she's been alive at least three hundred years . . ." Orko was tapping his hat again. "I wonder if she's really human or if she's a longer-lived race. Or if she's using some of the energy she gains to lengthen her own lifespan."

"Could she do that?" Duncan asked, aghast.

"Some of what she's been drawing on is the life energy of the . . . men . . ." Orko gulped. "Some of it is magical power, which is innate in all living things. But with life energy, she could easily extend her own lifespan." He turned around. "I went into her workshop and looked around, and into her library. She's really scary. All of those drugs she has, they're augmented by magic to increase either the potency or the duration of their effect. I don't know of anybody who does that, not even back on Trolla."

"Are there evil magicians on Trolla?" Man-at-Arms asked curiously.

He was slightly taken aback by the pitying look in Orko's eyes. "There's evil everywhere, Man-at-Arms, I thought you knew that."

Duncan nodded thoughtfully. Orko acted like such a clown so much of the time that it was often hard to realize that he was more than that. "Could you go back to the palace and scout out a good place to put this set up? Find Mekanek and have him help you locate a place that's both magically suited and easily secured." Orko nodded seriously and floated out of the room. His duties as an elevator operator had been easily made unnecessary by the simple expedient of breaking a hole in the top of the elevator and placing a ladder in the space.

Duncan turned back to Raon. "Where were we? Did you find any other missing time?"

Raon shook his head. "Nope, now we just have to watch that scene you interrupted earlier."

"All right."

Sighing, Raon popped out the square that held the branding, tucked it into a little box Duncan had provided for that purpose, and placed the green square back into the viewer. Swallowing his nausea, Duncan forced himself to watch.

The blue drug clearly did not have the driving power that the pink one did, Duncan reflected, trying to keep himself calm and rational as he watched Daviona run her hands all along Adam's body. He reacted, but without the energy he had in the first scene Duncan had watched with Raon, which now appeared to be very late in the sequence of events.

She, however, was all over him, touching, stroking, teasing his body into full arousal. The boy's eyes were blue pools of confused misery. Adam was so innocent, so unprepared for all of this. As far as Duncan knew, he'd never even kissed a girl anywhere but on the cheek. And here was this adult woman – more than adult if Orko's guesses were accurate – playing with him . . . toying with his body as if it were her property and his emotions weren't a consideration. _Of course for her, they probably aren't except insofar as she can manipulate them to her own ends._

The green drug had made him passive, accepting of her attentions, and, Duncan would guess, it encouraged physical response. At first glance, the blue appeared to have the same effect, but after the first – Duncan bit his lip to keep from growling – orgasm, Adam's behavior changed abruptly. He became more actively involved, though not, to Duncan's eye, creatively involved. He responded directly to whatever she did, moved with her, but there was no spontaneous action on his part. It seemed almost zombie-like. Duncan ground his teeth.

It was as is if the achievement of orgasm had activated another level of the drug's effect. Adam's eyes had grown hazy, his pupils huge. Duncan could see Raon's fists clenching on the table in front of him, and the stylus he'd been using to record notes snapped in half. "Easy, Raon," Duncan said. "Getting angry now doesn't help anything."

The sergeant whirled and glared at him. "Are you going to tell me you aren't angry, Man-at-Arms?" he growled. "Because if that's the case, I see two possibilities. Either you aren't the man I've known and respected my whole life, or you're a liar."

Duncan blinked. "Of course, I'm angry, I'd have to be dead or incredibly callous not to be!" He shook his head. "I guess what I should have said is that we need to find a beneficial outlet for that anger."

Raon tossed the broken halves of the stylus onto a pile of what appeared to be similar pieces, and picked up a new one. "I'm open to suggestions on that score," he said, gazing up at the screen. "How is Adam going to get past this?" he asked. "He's never . . . to my knowledge . . . done more than kiss a girl on the cheek. It's hard enough to get past the nerves the first time, but with this hanging over him . . . I don't know . . ."

It was hard to watch, and even harder to listen to . . . especially when she started to give him instructions, which, after the briefest of hesitations, he obeyed. After two more times with Adam's full participation, she relaxed, stroking his chest lightly. Over the next few minutes, Adam's eyes returned to normal, and she spoke to him.

"Are you enjoying yourself, sweet thing?" she asked.

"No." Adam rolled away, and Duncan watched him, his heart aching. "Are you done?" He looked so miserable, so lonely, so weary . . .

She followed him and draped herself on him. Duncan itched to reach out and drag her away, but they were only images projected onto a screen. "For today, I am. I can only absorb so much. You have a great deal of magical energy in you. I wonder why." Duncan stared in shock, barely hearing it as the conversation continued.

"What? What are you talking about?" Adam asked.

"You're an incredibly potent source of magical energy, quite apart from being an extremely enjoyable plaything." Duncan could tell her why, he thought, but it was a disturbing notion. Had she been drawing on the power of Grayskull . . . the power of the Elders . . . through Adam? Surely the Sorceress would have said something though . . .

Adam stood up in the image. "I need to use the privy," he said. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," the harpy replied, lying back on the bed. The prince stood looking at her, irresolute, and Duncan grimaced at the shrew's lack of consideration. Adam went into the privy then came out, standing still, naked, scratching his arm. He seemed to fade out of awareness for a few moments, as if lost in thought, or perhaps it was simply another effect of the drug.

Duncan watched, wanting to call out to the boy, to warn him, as Daviona reached into the little compartment under the mattress and pulled out several different syringes with various colors of drug. She looked thoughtful for a moment, the selected a blue one, tucking the others away and shutting the compartment again. She grinned cheerily as she walked over to Adam and deftly injected him.

The shot seemed to bring Adam back to the present, for he jumped slightly and looked over at his tormenter. "What?" he said, sounding bewildered. "I thought you said you were done."

Daviona's grin broadened. "Well, I can't absorb any more magical energy myself, but there's no saying I can't put it into a reservoir to use later," she said, kissing his back and nibbling on his neck. Then they were treated to another round of sexual activity till it was clear that Adam couldn't even move. She fed him something soft and easy to swallow, then left him on the bed, clearly none the worse for wear herself.

"What is she taking?" Raon asked incredulously. "How does she keep on going?"

Duncan shook his head. "I haven't seen any signs that she takes anything herself, though I could be wrong. I think it's just the life energy. She drains Adam and . . ."

"And it's no surprise that she has energy, she has his." Raon let out a frustrated growl. "I can't believe she got away!"

Duncan slumped. "Neither can I," he muttered. "If I'd just broken that door down sooner instead of trying to figure out how to open it."

"'If' doesn't feed the tiger," Raon said irritably. "You didn't know it was safe right away, I'm sure. Beating yourself up about it won't solve anything."

"Right." Duncan gazed up at the screen on which they could see Adam lying still, apparently sleeping, and not much else.

They sat back. They couldn't stop, for they didn't know what might happen in the rest of the recording, but there was nothing really to see. Nothing but hours of Adam, naked, imprisoned and sleeping.


	8. Irritants

**Chapter 8 – Irritants**

Adam lay on his side in the infirmary bed, pretending to be asleep. His mother sat beside him, stroking his hair, and his father was sitting on the chair beside the bed. He wasn't sure how much his pretense was fooling them, but they weren't talking, not even to each other, which was a relief.

He would never have believed he'd attempt suicide, never in a million years. Of course, he'd never expected to think Teela was sexy either. But not only had he tried to kill himself, but he'd hurt his mother when she'd tried to stop him. Not on purpose, but he had cut her. He could see the bandages on her arms if he slitted his eyes.

What was wrong with him? What had Davi done to him? Or was this part of him that was already there that Davi's drugs had merely unlocked? Who could he ask? His parents would be distressed by the questions, and he wasn't sure they would know the answers. They might say things that they believed to be true, or that they wanted to believe, but they wouldn't want to answer hard questions. He knew that.

Would Duncan know? But Duncan would be focused on how this would affect being He-Man, Adam thought. And that wouldn't help either.

He opened his eyes slowly. Dorgan was in the corner of the room, working on something quietly. He'd answer honestly. He was always honest, even when you didn't want him to be. Adam took in a deep breath and sighed. But how could he get Dorgan to talk to him and his parents to stay out of it? Or could he get them to leave?

"Adam, are you all right?" his father asked.

Adam sat up, sighing deeply. "No, I'm not all right," he said. "I feel too big for my skin and my head hurts." He grimaced. "And both my arms hurt."

"Dorgan, is there anything we can do about his pain?" his mother asked.

Adam looked at her, and over at his father. "I don't suppose I could talk to Dorgan alone for a little while?" he asked. "I'll bet neither of you has eaten or bathed since I got back." He gave his father an embarrassed look, aware that he was telling the absolute truth, but knowing, too, that his father was an expert at spotting ulterior motives. "Dad, no offense, but you smell."

Dorgan let out a bark of appreciative laughter. "I suspect that a break would be good on both sides," he said.

Ignoring the healer, his mother took Adam's hand. "How about if we each go at different times," she suggested. "Your father could go first, and then I could go when he comes back."

Adam shook his head. "I think you should go together. I don't think either of you should be alone right now." Dorgan snorted.

"But, Adam," his father said, "we don't want to leave you alone."

Adam closed his eyes and counted to ten. "I won't be alone," he said, opening his eyes and looking over at his father. "Dorgan will be here."

"But –" his mother started, and Adam lost his tenuous grasp on his patience.

"Can I just talk to Dorgan alone for five minutes?" Adam yelled. Both his parents jumped.

The healer stood up and walked over. "Make it ten," he said. "Both of you, get a shower and a meal. Go." When neither of them moved, he added, "Shoo!"

Marlena leaned forward and kissed Adam on the forehead. "Well, all right. We'll be back shortly, though, Adam. We love you." She slipped off the bed.

His father leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Yes, Adam, we love you." They took each other's hand and walked out, looking back over their shoulders.

Adam slumped back against the pillows. "I thought they'd never leave," he muttered, though he felt a stab of uncertainty as his father left the room.

"They're very worried about you," Dorgan said. "Now, what did you want to talk about?"

Gulping, Adam fought his way back to a sitting position and shifted so that he was leaning against the headboard. Cringer crawled up beside him, resting his giant head on Adam's knee. Adam started scratching the tiger's cheek while he tried to get his thoughts in order. "What's wrong with me?" he asked.

Dorgan grimaced. "For a simple question, that's got a complicated answer," he said. "Well, the first of it is, you know you were given several different drugs while you were in Daviona's control, right?"

Adam nodded, then he knit his brows. "Daviona? Is that her whole name?" Dorgan nodded. "She just told me Davi."

"I see." Dorgan knit his brows. "Well, we haven't puzzled out all the effects of the drugs yet, and there were apparently, from what I've been able to gather, magical aspects to the drugs that I'll have more trouble finding out until Orko's free to give me a hand in the lab."

"Orko's helping out?"

Dorgan nodded. "He's been a great deal of help, or so I've been told. Evidently his skill at analyzing the magic of others greatly exceeds his skill at performing magic himself." Adam blinked at this unexpected bit of intelligence. "So, here is what we know. Every one of the drugs I've analyzed so far from Daviona's store has mood-altering properties. I've been told, from people who have been able to find out, that you were given the green drug, the blue one, the pink one and the yellow one." Adam nodded. "The green drug has in it some depressants, some chemicals designed to alter perception of time and to put the recipient in a somewhat confused mental state. It also has a component that inhibits movement. For example, your brain tells your hand to move so you can push her back, but all you get is a twitch of your wrist."

"Wow," Adam said. "That explains a lot."

"I'm sure it does," Dorgan said. "The blue one is a little more complicated. It, too, has depressants, many of them seem to, but it's primary purpose seems to be to make you very open and responsive to sexual stimulation. I'm not sure, but I believe there is a trigger mechanism as part of its make-up. I've got one of my better chemists working on it now, but as I said, we'll be able to learn more when Orko is free."

Adam sat thinking. That really did explain a lot. He remembered that first night, where he only lay still and let Davi do what she wanted, and then the next morning, when he'd actually started _doing_ things, even though he didn't want to. "It compels response?" he asked hopefully.

Dorgan's expression was very sympathetic. "I think there's a magical component that does," he said. "Nothing in its chemistry should do that."

Adam grimaced. "Why do I feel . . . why do I want to . . . I don't want to, but my body wants to . . . and I don't know why!"

The healer seemed to follow this string of incomplete sentences without difficulty. "Well, there are several explanations for that. One, some of the chemicals are lingering in your bloodstream, still creating those urges." Adam looked down at his hands, which were starting to itch an awful lot. "They are gradually leaching out, as your kidneys clean your blood, but they are designed to hang around as long as possible."

Absently, Adam started rubbing his hands together, scratching the itches. "What else? What about the pink and yellow ones?"

"Well, the pink appears to be all stimulant and aphrodisiac," Dorgan said. "Tailor-made to fit in with the other drugs, despite the inherent contradiction of mixing a depressant with a stimulant. The depressants work on some parts of your brain, while the stimulants affect others."

Adam nodded. "Well, I guess if I had to get grabbed by a drug happy moron, it's better that she really knows what she's doing," he said wryly. He was beginning feel as if he had a rash going up and down both of his arms.

Dorgan disregarded the comment and said, "The yellow has an entirely different sphere of effect." Adam cocked his head, clenching his hands together tightly to keep from scratching his arms. "It's a conditioning drug, meant to make the subject very emotionally vulnerable, and easily influenced."

Adam blinked. "Is that why everyone's been so careful about what they're saying, and why all Mom and Dad seem to be able to say is how much they love me?"

"It was dangerous for them to say much of anything else," Dorgan said. "It can be hard to judge the effects of things that are said to a person who's under that kind of influence until well after the conditioning has taken root."

Adam sighed. "I guess that makes sense. But . . . I'm not sure . . . was it the depressants? What made me decide to kill myself? Because I would never have done that. It's just not me." He gazed deeply into Dorgan's eyes. "Or is it? Did those drugs just unlock something I didn't know about?"

Dorgan leaned forward and squeezed Adam's leg. "I don't think you have a death wish if that's what you're worrying about. But I can't answer your other question without a little more information from you. What thoughts were going through your mind?"

Biting his lip, Adam shrugged. "It was Teela," he said, and an image of her, unbidden, floated to the surface of his mind. She stood before him, the sun behind her, framing her perfect figure, shining through her hair, and his body started to respond. He pulled his knees up sharply to conceal the embarrassing response.

"Teela?" Dorgan repeated.

"I don't understand!" Adam wailed. "Mom and Dad, and even you, you all say it's normal, but why would I suddenly start having thoughts about Teela, and wanting her like this? It doesn't make sense!" He shook his head. "Is it something that Davi did to me, or have I been some kind of lecher all along and I just hadn't woken up to it yet?"

"Adam, you're not a lecher," Dorgan said firmly. "It's a natural thing to see a pretty girl that you like and have your body react."

"But it never did before!"

"All right, let me put it to you this way," Dorgan said. "You're sixteen years old. Sooner or later, most likely sooner, you were going to start having physical responses to girls and women whom you find attractive. It's a part of growing up that all men go through. It can be very strong and embarrassing on occasion, especially when it first starts up and you're not sure how to deal with it."

"All men?" Adam asked disbelievingly.

"All," Dorgan replied. "Your hormones start firing in the direction of some attractive female creature, and things start happening below the belt. You get used to it, you learn to control it, but you, my boy, are at the age when it starts."

"So, why is it starting right now?"

"Well, that's the hard part," Dorgan said. "Not hard to explain or to understand, just hard to deal with and get past. You just had sex, a whole lot of times, unless I miss my guess. You still have some pretty powerful chemicals in your system that are designed to promote sexual response."

"So it is something Davi did to me," Adam said, furrowing his brows.

"What Daviona did to you has made it start now, but the reactions you're having are perfectly natural."

"But Teela –"

"Teela is a friend. She's also a very pretty and extremely well-built young lady. And you feel safe around her. I would be surprised if you weren't finding her attractive on some level."

"It's so disrespectful!" he protested. "I mean, it's like that's all there is to her is that . . ." He flushed. "And it's not!"

"I know that. You know that. You can be sure that she knows that. And it's a testament to you as a young man that you can recognize that. I can't tell you how many young fellows at about your age become suddenly unable to notice anything about a girl but her bosom and other secondary sexual characteristics. My eldest son, for one. He grew out of it, but it was a trying time for all of us."

"Hathrin?" Adam exclaimed, thinking about that individual. He was a well-known carpenter in the city, and Adam could not imagine him behaving inappropriately. For one thing, he had three daughters, one of whom was about Adam's age . . . "Ally's very pretty," he said absently, then flushed crimson. "I'm sorry!"

"Why?" Dorgan asked. "She is." He paused. "As a matter of fact, she once told me that she thinks you're quite handsome."

Adam blinked. "Really? You mean, it's okay to be thinking that way?"

"Of course it is, Adam," Dorgan said. "I wouldn't necessarily talk about it with her parents, but you sound like a normal, healthy adolescent to me."

Adam contemplated what Dorgan had said. Then he knit his brows. "Wait, you said you learn to control it. Doesn't it ever go away?"

Dorgan grinned. "I hope not. The day I stop appreciating the attractiveness of women, I'll know it's time to head to my death bed."

"You mean . . ." He'd said that Teela was pretty and well-built, Adam thought. "You look at girls still?"

The grin grew broader. "Adam, I'm old, I'm not dead."

Adam nodded. "I guess," he said. The itching on his arms was starting to spread to his torso, and he was about to go crazy. He let go the now white-knuckled grip of his hands on each other and started scratching urgently on his arms.

Dorgan leaned forward. "Adam, are you all right?"

"I itch," he said, scratching madly.

"Adam, stop that!" the healer exclaimed. "You're going to hurt yourself."

Adam tried, but the horribly itchy sensation wouldn't let up. He felt his right hand peel the bandage off the injury he'd given himself with the scalpel, and it hurt as he dragged his nails across the cut, but he couldn't stop. "I can't!" Adam groaned. "It itches!"

Dorgan leaned over him and grabbed his hands, holding them firmly beside him. "You have to stop, Adam, you're bleeding."

"I can't!" He struggled against the healer, only succeeding in pulling himself down flat on the bed. "I don't want to, but . . ."

The door opened and his parents came back in. "Dorgan!" Adam's father cried. "What's going on?"

"He's having a reaction of some kind, I'm not sure what to, but he's trying to scratch through his skin. Get over here and hold him down!"

His father ran across and leaned over him, holding his arms down to the bed. Adam smiled up at him weakly. "This is a great way to finally spend some time together, eh?" He hadn't stopped trying to scratch, but his father was much stronger than Dorgan.

Randor blinked, an odd expression in his eyes. "Yes, I guess so," he said. "You itch?" His eyes scanned Adam's body. "Elders, son, you're bleeding again."

"I'm just glad I didn't reach the burn before Dorgan stopped me," Adam said. "That really would have hurt."

His mother sat down beside the bed. "When did this start?" she asked.

"It's been building," he said. "It just got really bad in the last twenty minutes or so. I think it's a drug reaction. I always got itchy when the sex drugs wore off."

Marlena reached over and patted him on the arm. His father, though . . . Randor's eyes grew misty and he gulped. Adam's eyes widened. "Are you going to cry?" he asked his father.

"No, of course not," he said as tears started rolling down his cheeks and dripping onto Adam's pajamas. "Adam, I'm so sorry!"

"What?" Adam's brows knit. "Why are you sorry?"

His mother stroked his hair back from his forehead, and as his hair shifted, his scalp started to itch. "Don't worry about it, Adam," she said.

Feeling like a heel, he said, "Can you not do that, Mom? That itches like crazy."

She drew her hand back as if scalded. "I'm sorry."

_Great, are they going to start apologizing every five minutes instead of telling me how much they love me? I'm not sure which is worse . . . though it's nice to hear . . . especially from Dad._

Dorgan bustled back in and leaned over him from the other side of the bed. Adam turned his head and looked up at the healer.

"Are you feeling any better?" Dorgan asked.

"No," Adam said, grimacing. "My face is starting to itch," he said, contorting. "Mom, would you tell him what I said?" He kept wrinkling his face, trying to get it to stop itching.

"He told us that he thinks it's a reaction to the . . . the sex drugs," Marlena said. "That they always made him itch when they wore off."

"Well, this could be a good sign, then," Dorgan said. "They're leaving your system. All right, I've got a possible treatment. I've already checked, and this shouldn't react poorly with whatever drugs are left in your system."

"What?" Adam asked.

Dorgan showed him a hypodermic needle and Adam felt his whole body tense. "NO!" he exclaimed. He tried to pull away from it, struggling against his father's strong grip. "No, please, please no!"

* * *

At the sight of the syringe, Adam went berserk, starting to struggle against his hands in earnest. Randor tightened his grip slightly, trying not to bruise him.

Dorgan looked worried and moved the needle out of sight again. "Adam," the healer said, "if I give this to you in pill form, it will take longer to work. A lot longer, potentially."

The boy shook his head violently, writhing and pulling in his father's grip. He'd started hyperventilating. "No needles! No!" He looked up at Randor, his face crumpled in an expression of sheer terror. "Please, Daddy, please don't let him give me a shot!"

The king looked up at his chief healer, whose eyes were wide. "Okay," Dorgan said. "No shots." He turned immediately and left the room.

"He's not giving you a shot, Adam," Randor said, looking down at his terrified son. "He's not. Okay? No shots."

"No shots?" Adam asked in a small, weak voice. "Promise?"

"No shots," Randor reaffirmed. Adam's terror decreased slowly. Randor kept talking to him, reassuring him. Marlena seemed to be stymied by her inability to touch their son without making things worse. Or maybe she was stunned. Her eyes were wide enough, and her attention was focused on Adam's face.

Finally, Adam's pupils shrank to their normal size and he started to breathe normally again. He looked up at his father and then away, flushing miserably. "I hate this!" he snarled, not looking at either of them. "I want my body back! I want my life back!"

Randor released Adam's arms and pulled him into a tight hug. "I know, son, I know." He sat on the bed and pulled his son onto his lap. "I'm sorry I didn't protect you better and keep this from happening." He started rocking, and he felt Adam's arms creep around him. "I love you, and you're going to be all right again. You are."

Dorgan came in again, and Randor fixed him with a steely look. The healer lifted a small cup of the sort they provided pills to patients in. Randor took his son's arms and gently pulled him away, shifting around behind him, sitting with Adam between his legs. Dorgan came forward with the little cup and a large glass full of water.

Adam was tense again, but not nearly so bad as before. He started to reach for his leg to scratch, but Randor caught his wrist and held it gently.

"I'm sorry, Adam, I should have thought that through," Dorgan said. "Here. This pill will probably take an hour or more to work, but it should stop your itching."

Adam nodded. Randor was still holding his arms. "Can you take the pill on your own, Adam?" Randor asked. "Or do I need to hang on to you?"

"I can do it," Adam said. Randor let go of his wrists and the boy took the pill out of the little cup and put it in his mouth, swallowing it with the water. Then he thrust the glass back at Dorgan and put his hands on his father's knees, muscles trembling with the effort of resisting the need to scratch. Randor gently rested his hands atop Adam's hoping that would suffice for restraint. He could already see bruises coming in on Adam's arms where he'd held him down during his panic attack.

Dorgan put the glass aside on the counter and then moved around for a few minutes, opening drawers and cupboards.

Adam looked up over his shoulder and said, "Thanks, Dad. I'm sorry I'm being such an idiot."

"You're not being an idiot," Randor said.

"I never minded shots before," he said.

Marlena shifted the chair so that she was facing Adam. "You never had someone use them as an attack on you before," she said. "It's understandable."

"I'm really sorry I hurt you, Mom," he said and Randor could tell that he was looking at the bandages on her arms.

"I'm all right, Adam," she said, leaning forward and reaching out, stopping herself before she touched him. "I want to hug you."

"Go ahead," Adam said. She smiled and, kneeling on the bed, she gave Adam a great big hug. Then she drew back to the chair again.

"I love you, you know that, don't you?" she said.

Adam nodded. "It's been kind of hard to miss," he said in an amused voice. "How long is that going to last, anyway?" he asked. "I can just see it, 'Pass the roast, Adam, I love you.'"

"Well, maybe we haven't said it enough," Randor said. "We have a lot of time to catch up on."

Adam craned his neck around to look at him. "Really?" he asked, sounding more than a little surprised.

"I say it quite frequently," Marlena said, raising an eyebrow at her husband.

Their son turned back. "Well, yeah, _you_ do," he said. Randor flushed to roots of his hair.

"I'm sorry, son, I've – I –"

"You're busy," Adam said dismissively. "I know that. You're king. You have lots of more important things on your mind."

Before Randor could respond to that, Dorgan walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed holding a small basin and a little tray of ointments and bandages. "Let's get you cleaned up again, Adam," he said. "Let me know if this gets too disturbing."

Adam nodded, and Dorgan began to swab the blood away from the cut on his left arm, smearing ointment on it and bandaging it again. Randor could feel his son squirming, but the boy didn't pull away, so he didn't say anything. Dorgan stood up, discarded the water and ran new, then walked around to the other side. "It's looking like the burn may have opened up again," he said, deftly peeling that bandage back, too.

Adam leaned against Randor's chest. "Thanks Dorgan," the prince said. "I know you don't do a lot of this kind of work yourself anymore." He looked up, though Randor couldn't quite see his face. "So, I was gone for four days. What happened? How did you find me?"

"Well, first we went to Snake Mountain," Randor said.

Letting out a little laugh, Adam said, "I'd almost forgotten that Skeletor was involved in this."

_I haven't,_ Randor thought grimly. "I'm not sure how long after the . . . um . . ."

Adam stiffened. "The auction?" he said, and his voice had lost all traces of amusement.

"Yes, the auction," Randor said. "I'm not sure how long it was over when we got to Snake Mountain, but Skeletor told us about it, and showed us parts of it to convince us that you weren't there. Duncan tried to kill him, but . . ." Randor shook his head. "Once I was sure –"

"Dad," Adam said in a small voice. "What did they all want me for?" he asked. "I mean, I know why Davi wanted me now, but . . . most of them were still bidding up to three hundred thousand crowns. Why did they want me, and do they still?"

Randor felt his mouth go dry. He didn't want to give him the truthful answers, which were 'I don't really know,' and 'Maybe.' His silence seemed to alarm his son, however.

"Dad?" Adam paused. "Daddy?"

"I was so focused on getting you back that I didn't take time to ask either of those questions, son," Randor said truthfully. "Be assured that I will start asking them very soon. But I can tell you about two of them for sure."

"Okay," Adam said, relaxing against his chest as Dorgan finished bandaging his arm. The healer walked back over and sat down at the table he'd been using as a desk and got back to work.

"First of all, one of them was the Warlord Grenalo, from the South Continent." He felt Adam shrink a little. Grenalo didn't have a good reputation for his treatment of prisoners. "He's dead now, so it doesn't really matter why he wanted you, and he most certainly doesn't want you now."

"Dead?" Adam repeated, sounding astonished. "Who killed him?"

Randor raised his eyebrows. "Um . . . I did."

Adam took a moment to digest that. "You killed him? Why?"

"Well, he tried to purchase you, and he was trying to kill me."

"Self-defense?" Adam asked, and Marlena looked up at her husband, clearly curious what his answer would be.

Randor nodded. "In part." He knew damned well that he could have gotten out of that fight without killing Grenalo, but that didn't really matter.

"What about the other person? Are they dead?"

"No, she's very much alive, but she's the reason we found you as soon as we did."

"What?" Adam craned around again. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know who Lithi of Cambramere is?"

"Isn't she headwoman of a village up north, one of the ones that's really opposed to you as the representative of the Elders? The really outspoken one?" Marlena nodded.

"She was invited to the auction by Skeletor," Randor said. "Evidently, he told them ahead of time what he would be selling, and she went to see if she could buy you and bring you home."

"Why would Skeletor have invited her?" Adam asked incredulously. "Grenalo I understand, but Lithi of Cambramere?"

"She would be pleased by your reaction," Randor said, smiling. "But it's good for us that he did, because her husband recognized Daviona and knew quite a lot about her habits."

"He did?" Randor could tell that Adam was thinking, so he waited. "How did he find out? I would think she was pretty quiet about things or we would have heard more about her before now."

"He was once part of her harem," Marlena said, leaning forward and putting her hand on Adam's knee. "He escaped just over twenty years ago, and he remembered how it was there. He followed her and they came to us to help us find you."

Randor answered the question he could hear hovering behind Adam's lips. "And it took so long because they didn't reach us until the evening of the second full day you were there, and he hadn't actually seen precisely where she landed."

"So you had to find the spot?" Adam asked.

"And for that we had the help of a local farmer and his son." Randor squeezed Adam's hands gently. "I wish we had gotten there sooner."

His son's voice was almost inaudible. "Me too." He cleared his throat then, and said, "But it's over, now. She got away, but we have her headquarters and . . . and what happened to Trevor and the others?"

"They're here," Randor said. "We haven't worked out what to do with them exactly yet, because –"

"Don't hurt them, Father, they're victims too," Adam said urgently.

"Yes, we know." Randor sighed deeply. "Voren told us a lot about how life worked there. He lived there from ages twelve to thirty-five."

"How old is he now?"

"Fifty-five."

Adam was silent for a moment. "Do they have families? People who don't know what happened to them?"

"Voren says they're all taken from orphanages, so it seems unlikely," Randor said. "Though we will certainly check. But it could be awkward."

"Why?"

"Because they are not as young as they look, most of them. To use Trevor as an example, Voren remembers him being about fifteen when he escaped twenty years ago."

"But –" Adam shook his head. "He doesn't look more than twenty-two."

"The drugs she gives them, and possibly some magical spells she places on them, change the way they age."

There was a knock at the door and Dorgan, looking perplexed, stood up and went to open it. "Could you ask the king if Man-at-Arms can come in now?" Duorno asked.

Randor thumped his head against the headboard. "Yes, Man-at-Arms can come in, Duorno," he called. "Come in, Duncan."

Adam leaned forward as the door opened wider to admit Man-at-Arms. "What's going on . . ." Duncan started, but his eyes took in the situation, lingering on the way Randor was clearly restraining his son and the bandages on Marlena's arms. "Strike that, you can tell me later."

"Hi, Man-at-Arms," Adam said, and Randor could hear the smile in his voice. Duncan walked forward and tousled Adam's hair. Marlena's eyes opened wide and Randor had to keep himself from smacking Duncan's hand away. Adam just ducked slightly.

"Good to see you, Adam," Duncan said. "How are you feeling?"

"Really odd, but a lot better," Adam said. "I'm having a reaction to the drugs leaving my system."

"Withdrawals?" Duncan asked, glancing over at Dorgan. The healer nodded. "Well, um . . . Randor, can Orko come in? There's something he needs to check out on Adam."

Raising his eyebrows, Randor nodded, and Duncan let the litte jester in. Adam leaned forward again. "Hi, Orko!" he said cheerfully, and the jester floated up to hover in front of the prince.

"Hi, Adam!" the little jester exclaimed. "I hope you're feeling better."

"I am. I hear you've been helping out a lot."

Orko floated bashfully. "I'm sure trying," he said. "But can I look at your back right now? There might be something I need to see there."

"Okay." Adam sounded a little puzzled, but not alarmed, so Randor allowed him to draw his hands out from under his and turn around. He pulled the pajama top up and said, "What's there to see? It's just my back, right?" Randor saw, though, his expression change suddenly. "Or . . . is there something?" He sounded almost frightened.

Orko drifted closer, and lower, and Randor saw him pull the back of Adam's waistband down as he examined him. "Um . . . there _is_ something," he said. "But it's not a huge big deal."

"What is it, Orko?" Duncan asked. Adam had started reaching out to scratch himself again.

"It's a spell glyph," the jester said. Randor froze in the midst of catching Adam's hand, but that was all right, because Adam froze too. "But it doesn't hurt him, or make him do anything."

"What does it do?" Marlena asked, her voice calm. Randor hoped the jester answered her question quickly, because he could feel his own calm slipping away.

"It stops him from aging," Orko said.

They all were silent and still for a moment, then Adam dived in against him, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and burrowing in. Randor put his arms around his son, wishing he could still the trembling he could feel. "Did she do that to the others?" he asked, his voice sounding extremely pathetic.

"I don't think so," Orko said seriously, drifting closer. "I'm sorry, Adam."

"Can you remove it?" Randor asked, amazed by the steadiness of his voice.

Orko floated higher so that he was eye to eye with the king. "Not right now. I have to examine it for awhile before I can be sure I do it right."

Duncan stood at the foot of the bed, looking deeply distressed by Adam's sudden withdrawal, Marlena clearly wanted to wrap him in her arms and make everything better. Dorgan just sat sideways in his chair looking aghast at the news. Orko rocked back and forth unhappily.

"I'm sorry, your highness," he said. "I don't want to mess up. This _matters_."

"Yes, Orko, you're quite right," he replied. "What are you working on right now?"

"Moving the . . . um . . ." He glanced over at Duncan. "Moving the equipment to the palace, and then I'm supposed to help Dorgan figure out what spells are on the drugs."

"How much time do you think it will take you to work out how to remove this spell?"

"It doesn't matter," Adam said, his voice muffled against his father.

"What?" Randor looked down, somewhat appalled by this response.

Adam pulled back, looking slightly frantic. "I want to know what spells are on the drugs. I want to know what's wrong with me." His eyes were earnest and pleading. "I can stand not aging for another couple days if that's what it takes."

Orko floated over towards Adam's shoulder, touching it gently. "I can manage both," the jester said. "I know what the spell is, and I can think about it while I'm working on other things."

Adam smiled at him. "I'm sorry I'm being such an idiot," he said.

Orko tilted his head. "You're not an idiot," he said. "But I've got to go. I will be thinking about how to get rid of that spell, though." He floated over to Duncan and said, "I think I might have found a good spot, Man-at-Arms, but it's in the basement. You might want to come and take a look."

"I'll be along shortly, Orko," Duncan said. "Why don't you go talk with Dorgan's chemists?"

"Yes, sir, Man-at-Arms," Orko said. "I'll see you later, Adam!"

Adam turned and smiled at the jester. "Bye," he said. Randor could see Adam taking in the fact that Duncan was still there, and he saw the flush that crept along the boy's ears. Slowly, with clear effort, Adam turned around and sat against his father again, looking up at his mentor. "Where have you been?" he asked. Then his ears turned an even brighter shade. "I mean, I just haven't seen you, so I wondered where you were . . . and what you were doing . . . I just –"

"It's all right, Adam," Duncan said, walking over to lean on the end of the bed. "I understood what you meant. I've been searching Daviona's complex."

"Oh." Adam placed his hands firmly on his father's knees and Randor conscientiously covered them. "I'm itching," the prince said by way of explanation. "It's a drug reaction."

"Ah, yes, I see," Duncan said, and Randor could tell he was referring to more than what was directly before him. What had he seen in those recorded images? Randor couldn't leave to talk to him right now, there was no way he could leave Adam . . . he clenched his teeth, glad that Adam couldn't see his expression.

"So, have you found anything interesting?"

"A few things," Duncan said. He raised his eyebrows. "I don't know that I'm at liberty to discuss the details yet."

Adam nodded seriously. "Because I'm still susceptible, right? You don't know how I'll react?"

Randor blinked and glanced over at Dorgan who nodded fractionally. "Yes, Adam," he said. "We're still being very careful."

The prince sighed. "That makes sense. I don't want any weird hang-ups that I can avoid." He looked down at his hands, then he tensed, looking up. "Oh, Man-at-Arms, I'm sorry. I think I upset Teela." He turned to his father. "I forgot all about it when I –" He visibly bit down on what he'd been about to say. "I forgot. Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Randor said. Duncan merely looked perplexed, which Randor could readily understand. He'd undoubtedly seen Teela on his way into the room, standing guard with Duorno. "She was upset, but she's fine now."

"I didn't mean to," Adam said earnestly to Duncan. "I just – I had a –" Pausing, he turned to Duncan. "Am I in danger of suggesting things to myself if I say them or think them too much?" he asked. Randor looked over at Dorgan, and he could see both the others gazing at the healer as well, all of them completely baffled about how to answer this question. Randor was frankly surprised that it had occurred to Adam to wonder.

"I'm afraid so," Dorgan said.

"Like when I kept saying I was a . . . and then I . . ." Adam grimaced. He looked over at his parents. "Have you told Duncan yet?"

"I haven't spoken to Duncan today, and neither has your father," Marlena said.

"Oh." Adam looked down at the bed, and then up into his mentor's eyes. "I tried to kill myself earlier, but Mom stopped me. That's why she's hurt."

Duncan's jaw dropped, and he walked towards Adam, stepping around the end of the bed. Duncan reached out and hugged him tightly. Randor let go of the boy's hands and watched him return the hug. "Adam, no. I love you, and . . . and . . ."

"You do?" Adam asked, pulling slightly away from his mentor. "It's not just – um – work?"

"Adam," Randor exclaimed. "Of course Duncan loves you. He watched you grow up."

Duncan drew back and he looked intently into Adam's eyes. "Listen to me Adam. I love you. No matter what else you become, no matter what else you may do, I love Adam."

Tears began to roll down Adam's face, and he clutched at Duncan, who hugged him back. "I love you, too, Duncan," he mumbled into the breastplate.

"I'm sorry," Duncan chuckled. "I guess I'm not the easiest person to hug just now."

Adam drew back and grinned up at him. "I don't think I ever see you without your armor anymore," he said. Duncan stepped back and pulled off his breastplate and set it aside. "Now you just look weird," the boy said. "Kind of shrunken." Nevertheless Adam leaned forward and gave his mentor an enthusastic hug now that there were no metallic barriers.

"Now," Duncan said after a moment, pulling back and dropping his hands to Adam's knees. "Why did you try to kill yourself?"

The prince shrugged. "Are you going to kill me if I tell you that Teela's pretty?" he asked tentatively, looking into Duncan's eyes.

Duncan raised an eyebrow. "No, why?"

"Um . . . well, I noticed, today, for the first time, that she, um . . ."

Duncan reached up and put a hand on Adam's forearm. "I see. There's only one possible cause for all those ums. Teela's a girl."

"Well, I just figured that out today," Adam said. Randor squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. Then he noticed that Adam was reaching for his arm, nails outstretched. He caught his son's hand and held it gently. Adam grimaced and leaned back against him, resting his hands on Randor's legs again. Duncan looked nonplussed, but he gamely ignored the byplay.

Shrugging, he said, "Well that just means that you noticed a little later than most of the other young men your age."

There was a moment of tense silence, and Randor could feel Adam's hands clenching into fists. "Other young men have noticed?" he asked, his voice very quiet but with an edge of hostility. "_Which_ other young men?"

Duncan raised his eyebrows, taking his helmet off and dropping it with his armor. "Well, Adam –" he started, but Adam cut him off.

"Have they done anything they shouldn't?" he asked, leaning forward. "Has any of them pushed her in any way?"

"No! Of course not!" Duncan replied, but Randor noticed a furtive question in his eyes. Evidently Adam noticed it as well, for he turned toward the door.

Taking in a deep breath, he yelled, "TEELA!"

The door opened and Teela peered around the edge. Taking courage from the queen's nod, she continued into the room and shut the door behind her. "Yes, Adam?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"Have any of those rotten courtiers tried to push you into anything?"

Randor took hold of his son's shoulders. "Adam, please calm down. This –" But Adam shrugged him off.

"Have they?"

Teela walked forward to the end of the bed. "Push me into what?" she asked, brows knitting.

"Sex," Adam said. "Has any of them tried to push you into sex?"

She shrugged. "Well, sure," she said, turning scarlet. "But they learned their lesson pretty fast."

"But you said something about political entanglements." Adam leaned forward. "What about any of the visiting noblemen? Have they been pushy?"

Randor expected a similar answer, but Teela looked down at the floor. "One or two," she said, her feet shifting.

"What?" The word was ripped from three adult throats at once, and her father rose to his feet, abruptly looming. _One or two is teenaged code for three or four,_ Randor thought, controlling his own reaction rigidly.

She glared at them all impartially. "It's nothing I can't handle." She shrugged. "I act all obtuse to the ones I can't punch."

Marlena rose and went to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Teela, dear, being obtuse is only so much of a protection," she said. "Have any of them continued beyond that?"

"It's fine," Teela said. "Just one, and I –"

Marlena turned to the rest of them. "Randor, Duncan, Adam, please excuse us. Teela and I are going to have a little private conversation."

"Who is it?" Adam demanded. "I'll kill him!"

The undoubted and violent hostility in that sentence silenced them all, Marlena and Teela froze, staring, and Randor found himself slowly drawing Adam closer to him. "Adam, we don't kill people, remember?"

"You did! You killed Grenalo."

"That was self-defense."

"Fine, then I'll beat him up! If some bastard is pawing Teela, I'll – I'll –" Adam broke off, all the tension going out of him. "Wait, does that mean you won't kill Davi?"

Marlena put her arm around Teela's shoulders and steered the wide-eyed girl out of the room. Adam didn't seem to notice their defection, so intent was he on the question. He pulled away from Randor and turned. "Well?" he asked.

"Daviona is different, Adam," Randor said gently. "Yes, we will kill Daviona when we find her, but she has . . . what she's done to you is so incredibly vile . . ."

Adam blinked at him. "But if she surrenders, you always said we don't kill in cold blood. We didn't even kill Count Marzo when we captured him."

Randor shook his head. "After what she's done to you . . . after what she's done to countless young men, I can't let her live. And I refuse to put you through a public trial."

"Countless young men?" Adam repeated. "What do you mean? There were the six who were her guards, how many more?"

Randor bit his lip and saw Dorgan nodding in the background. Sighing, he caught Adam's hands to stop him from scratching his arms. "We don't actually know," he said. "And there were twelve men who were acting as her guards, and two boys who were being trained up to it."

Adam blanched. "Boys? She was raping boys?" He shook his head. "How old are they?"

"No, Adam," Randor assured him. "No, she wasn't raping them. The sex doesn't become part of the training until they're about sixteen. The boys are twelve and fourteen."

"She didn't rape them?" Adam asked again. "You're sure?"

Duncan reached out and put a hand on Adam's shoulder. "It wasn't the way she did things, Adam. No, she didn't rape the boys."

Adam's eyes had gone a little too wide, and he was beginning to look a little shocky. Randor pointed toward the blanket at the end of the bed and Duncan picked up and helped him tuck it around his son. "Adam, you need to rest." The boy leaned unresisting against him, curling up against his chest. Randor put his arms around him, holding him close, looking over at Duncan's worried face.

"Twelve?" Adam said pathetically. "I only ever saw six."

"There were twelve," Randor said softly. "Adam, you –"

"How big was that place? I mean, I don't even know where she slept, only that she never slept with me." _Thank the Elders. What more damage would that have done to him?_

"It's pretty sizable," Duncan said. "But much of it is hidden behind secret doors."

Adam was silent for a moment. "She's got a twisty way of thinking," he said, sounding on the verge of sleep. "Twisty and selfish."

"That's the truth," Randor said. "Now sleep, son."

After a moment, it became clear that he had, in fact, dropped off. Duncan looked at Randor, then reached out and picked up a pad of paper off the table beside the bed. Randor and Marlena had been using it to communicate when Adam was asleep or when they simply didn't want him to hear what they were saying.

Scrawling quickly, Duncan wrote, "How long has he been like this?" Randor looked down at his hands and raised an eyebrow. Pursing his lips, Duncan sighed. He wrote for awhile longer, then turned the pad. "When last I saw him, yesterday, he was still incoherent and shaky. Has he been this odd mix of sense and wild emotionality since he woke up today?"

Randor nodded. Duncan bent to the pad of paper again.

"Did you and Marlena get out of the room at all today?"

"Yes," Randor said. "Adam sent us out to shower and eat. Dorgan stayed with him."

"Good," Duncan said. "You two need to stay healthy as well."

"Thank you," Dorgan muttered, and they both turned to look at him in surprise. "You'd think I'd never said that, but maybe they'll listen to it if it comes from you."

Randor snorted. "Leave it, Dorgan. You haven't been out of here much today either."

Duncan stood up. "Well, I'd better be going. I've still got to deal with that . . . equipment."

"Is there anything I should know about that equipment?" Randor asked.

"Raon's preparing a written report," Duncan said. "I'll see you get it as soon as it's ready."

"Thank you."

Pulling his armor on, Duncan nodded and left. Randor held his son close and rested his chin atop his head. That wretched woman would pay. In a truly just world, she would suffer horribly for the evils she had done, but Randor would be satisfied with a quick death that would end her ability to do harm.


	9. First Times

**Chapter 9 – First Times **

Teela expected to be lectured on how she should tell her father or the queen if someone bothered her like that, so she was very surprised that once Marlena got them both settled in a patient counseling room, she didn't bring that subject up directly.

"Do you have any idea where that was coming from?" she asked.

Teela blinked. "What?" she asked stupidly.

The queen sighed. "I'm sorry. Let me back up. No one has had a chance to explain Adam's reaction to you earlier, have they?"

"Well, the king told me that Adam had been . . . raped," Teela said slowly. "But nothing beyond that, no."

Marlena gave her a sad smile and pushed a stray lock of hair out of Teela's face. "Well, let's see if I can. You know, don't you, that you're a very pretty girl?"

Teela flushed. "I'm okay, I guess," she said. "Nothing like one of those court girls."

"All that means is that you don't primp and fuss and try to make yourself look as perfect as a picture, and nearly as lifeless." The queen shook her head. "You're very pretty, and you've become a very nicely built young woman. Today, for the first time, Adam noticed that fact."

"He what?" Teela shook her head, having a bit of trouble taking that in. "For the first time?"

"Yes, and because he never felt any sort of . . . hormonal attraction to you before, he put it down to Daviona's influence. When he turned away from you, it was because he thought there was something wrong with him."

Teela was baffled. "But I though all boys started . . . um . . . noticing girls like that. I mean, most of the other boys our age started looking at me differently a year ago. I just figured that Adam was a nicer boy, and just hadn't – well – hadn't –" She shrugged. "But doesn't he know that it's normal?"

"He does now, I hope, we've been trying to persuade him." The queen patted her knee. "I'm sure it won't be that hard once he's over the influence of these drugs. That's the other thing, though. Do you know what an aphrodisiac is?" Teela nodded, flushing. "Some of the drugs Daviona used on him were very strong aphrodisiacs, and they're still in effect to some degree. They made him both very responsive to any sexual stimulus and very suggestible. It wasn't just that he noticed that you were a girl, but that he had a very strong reaction to your femininity. A strong physical reaction, that made him very embarrassed, and because of his suggestibility, it made him feel like he was a bad person."

"I'm sorry," Teela said, but Marlena shook his head.

"It isn't you're fault, dear," the queen said reassuringly. "You didn't do anything wrong at all, so don't apologize. I'm just explaining so that you can understand."

"But what can I do?" Teela asked. "I don't want to set something like that off again."

"Just try to act normally," Marlena said. "He'll be very sensitive to it if you act differently, and there's no knowing what interpretation he might put on it."

Teela gulped. _How do you act normally when you're told to act normally?_ she wondered. "I'll do my best," she said.

"That's all anyone can ask of you, dear," the queen said, smiling. They both stood up, and, unexpectedly, Marlena gave her a big hug. "Thank you for being so supportive of Adam. It means a lot to both Randor and I."

Teela flushed. "How could I not?" she asked. "I love him, too."

They turned and started to leave, but then Marlena stopped. "Wait, just a moment, I almost forgot." Putting her arm around Teela's shoulders, she led her back to the bench they'd been sitting on. Teela raised an eyebrow curiously. "Now, just which foreign nobleman is being so pushy?"

Teela grimaced and sat down. _I should have known she wouldn't forget._

* * *

Duncan asked Duorno where Teela and Marlena had gone and decided that the queen could handle the problem at this stage. Nevertheless, he was going to have a chat with his little girl. He'd raised her to be self-sufficient, and he was proud of that, but he didn't want her to be so . . . _she should have told me._ He realized abruptly that he was deliberately _not_ thinking about Adam and how he'd folded himself up as small as a sixteen-year-old could and fallen asleep against his father's chest.

_Does he really think I only care about He-Man?_ Duncan wondered. _What the devil have I said – what have I done – to make him feel that way?_ Forcibly dismissing these thoughts, he shook his head and went into the lab to find Orko.

The Trollan was gazing intently at the blue liquid in a test tube while a bored looking lab technician stood nearby. "Uh huh, it's got all sorts of spells woven into it," he said.

The technician looked at the jester in shock. "More than one?" she asked.

"Well, yeah," Orko said. "First there's something that makes it stronger, then there's one that makes it last longer . . . makes it stay longer . . . it's like it melds with the blood, I think." Duncan's jaw dropped, mirroring the technician. Orko shook his head thoughtfully. "No, it's more like it _bonds_ to the blood. And then there's the one that makes the stuff mix together."

"Makes the stuff mix together?" the technician repeated. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know how oil and water won't mix?" Orko said. She nodded. "Well, I could use a spell, if it went right, to make them mix together. You couldn't even tell looking at them that they were mixed. I saw someone do that once on Trolla. It looked like water, but it had oil mixed in." He swayed uneasily. "It caught fire like an inferno." He twisted, clearly uncomfortable with the memory, and saw Duncan. "Oh, Man-at-Arms! Are you ready?"

"Yes, Orko, I am."

Waving at the technician, Orko started to move towards the door. "Good, because I think I found the perfect –"

"Man-at-Arms?" Duncan turned and raised an eyebrow at the technician. "Do you have to take him?"

"What?" Duncan asked, startled.

"He just solved three problems in fifteen minutes that we've been working on for days," she said. "There are so many more bottles . . ."

"Oh, I'll be back," Orko said cheerfully. "I think I'm mostly done with what Man-at-Arms needs me for." The jester glanced over at him, but Duncan wasn't sure that was true. "Or, maybe. I will be back, though."

He'd continued to move toward the door, even though he'd turned around to talk to the techician. Duncan saw the disaster coming a split second in advance and reached forward. "Orko, no –"

But it was too late. The jester floated back into a rack of empty test tubes, knocking them every which way. They crashed to the floor, smashing, pieces of glass scattering throughout the room. Duncan looked over at the technician. Now this was the usual reaction he expected from people looking at Orko. But she shook her head, her irritated expression dissipating. "Never mind," she said as Orko looked around and started to babble apologies. "I'll clean it up. Come back soon, all right?"

"As soon as I can," Orko promised, floating gingerly out after Man-at-Arms. "I didn't mean to do that," he said downheartedly.

"You need to pay closer attention to where you're going," Duncan said gently. "But you are being a very big help with all of the magical analysis you've been doing."

"I'm trying. I wish I had my wand. I did much better magic with my wand."

Duncan shrugged. "Well, the help you're giving us now is invaluable. I'd have had to take Adam to the Sorceress to find out about that spell, and I'm not sure that Dorgan would have been willing to let me."

"I just wish I could take it off right now," Orko said. "Can you tell the king something for me later?"

"Of course."

"I didn't want to say anything in front of Adam, but the reason I can't take it off right this minute is because it's tied into Adam's heart and lungs somehow. If I just removed the power from it, which is the easiest way to deal with a glyph, it could kill him."

Duncan blinked, surprised at the little jester's restraint. Orko wasn't usually that perceptive. He usually just blurted things out. "That was a wise choice, Orko," he said. "I'll tell the king when I can get him alone."

"Okay." Orko floated along ahead of him, leading the way for awhile. When they reached the stairs, he held back and stayed beside Duncan. "I sure wish my uncle Montork was here," he said. "He's very good at dealing with evil wizards and stuff."

Duncan shrugged. "Well, I'm glad we have you," he said.

The jester's chest swelled with pride and Duncan smiled to himself. He deserved to be proud of himself. He was making a big impact on their attempt to find out what had happened to Adam. They went the rest of the way down to the room, which seemed, from the look of things, to have been a storeroom.

Mekanek looked up from the stack of miscellaneous objects he was putting down in the hall. "We've got to find someplace to put all this stuff," he said, gesturing at other, similar heaps of junk, "or the housekeeper's going to have my hide. So, Man-at-Arms, do you think it will work?"

"I'm not sure." He went inside, Orko following behind him.

"The floor underneath here is bedrock," the jester said, "perfect for storing the power bubble. Nothing will be able to affect it in bedrock."

"But will we have to dig a hole?"

Orko shook his head, his brows drawing down. "No, the point is to put the bubble in bedrock." Duncan raised a confused eyebrow and Orko sighed. "They occupy the same space. That's how it is back in Daviona's lair. Most bedrock doesn't have a lot of power of its own, so it's a neutral place to store magical energy."

"So, how do we transport it?" Duncan asked. "If the power needs to be in bedrock . . ."

"Oh, I can shield it," Orko said dismissively. "We just need to move it all together at once, and keep it in the same um . . . configuration, or it could get problematic. I figured we'd take the whole table. That way I can sit on the lower shelf of it and control the power sphere."

Duncan had serious misgivings about Orko's certainty. "Are you sure you can manage it?"

The jester nodded. "It's actually very passive magic. I won't be casting any spells. More just extruding energy and wrapping it around the thing."

"How's that different from casting a spell?"

Orko floated in front of him perplexedly. Finally, he said, "Well, it's kind of like . . . um . . . well, when you throw a ball, it's sometimes called casting, right? Casting is another word for throw." Duncan nodded slowly. "Well, when you cast a spell, it's like you're throwing the magic away from you. It stops being part of you and goes over there and does something." Orko made a vaguely arcane gesture off to his left, and Duncan couldn't help glancing over to make sure that nothing had changed shape or color. "This will be more like I'm lengthening my hand, the power will all still be part of me, I'll just be pushing it out to cover something that's not part of me. Does that make sense?"

Duncan shook his head, uncertain whether it made sense or not. "You are certain – absolutely certain – that there will be no problems?"

Orko nodded, but he was always over-confident. Duncan sighed. _You're just going to have to trust him, Duncan. He always _wants_ to help._ "Well, then, we're just about ready to make the move. Tomorrow, just after noon. Till then, Orko, you're free to work in Dorgan's lab."

"You don't want to do it today?" Orko asked, wilting slightly.

"Just in case there's a problem we haven't foreseen, I want to finish watching what there is to watch of Adam before we move the device." Duncan forced a reassuring smile. "After all, the wind raider could lose power and damage it in transit."

Orko brightened slightly at this suggestion that a failure wouldn't necessarily be his fault. "Okay, Man-at-Arms. See you later."

As the Trollan flitted off, Duncan became aware of Mekanek at his elbow. "Yes, Mekanek?"

"That was a good thing you did; Orko needs a bit of a boost from time to time."

Duncan turned to his friend. "He's been a great help these last few days."

Mekanek studied him for a moment. "Can an old friend be frank?"

"Of course."

"You look like hell toasted on bread." Duncan raised his eyebrows. "Have you gotten any sleep in the last few days?"

Grimacing, Duncan shook his head. "I've gotten some, probably not enough, but with what I've been watching, sleep doesn't come easily."

"And when it does it isn't pleasant, I'll wager," Mekanek said knowingly. "Duncan, you have to rest. I know how it goes, believe me, no one better, but you have to rest. The one good thing about Randor and Marlena spending all their time with Adam is that it forces them to sleep some of the time."

"You can trust that I will sleep when time allows, Mek," Duncan said. The master rolled his eyes. "In the meantime, I need to get back to Raon. Leaving that boy alone with that horror is not kind."

"What, exactly, are you looking at with him?" Mekanek asked.

Duncan pursed his lips. Though many, even the man himself, looking upon him as the least of the masters, both Randor and Duncan knew him to be an absolutely trustworthy, utterly faithful man whose only failing was insecurity about his own worth. "Every moment of Adam's time there is recorded by some process that's part magical, part mechanical. We're watching it all. Raon's writing a report for Randor."

Mekanek's head raised slightly in startlement, then he lowered it again. "So, do you think there's any chance you'll manage to keep Randor from watching it?" he asked.

Duncan snorted. "You know the captain," he said, slipping back into a mode that was older than the prince whose problems they were discussing. "Always has to have his hand in everything."

"You can't blame him in this situation, it's his son, but I can't help thinking that he doesn't need to see all the details." Mekanek was silent for a moment, and Duncan wondered what he was thinking. "Or, on the other hand, maybe he does . . ."

Reaching out, Duncan put a hand on Mekanek's shoulder and squeezed. "You did a hell of a lot out there to guarantee the success of our mission."

"Nothing that wasn't trumped by having Lithi stroll in and hand us the answer on a platter," Mekanek said glumly. "I'm not saying I wish it hadn't happened that way, because our path was taking too long, but I didn't really do all that much to contribute to the actual solution."

"Don't denigrate your contribution, Mek," Duncan said. "If Lithi hadn't shown up, if her information had proven less useful, you were cutting a lot of time off our search by . . . well, by intimidating people. I never would have imagined you using that tactic, but it was certainly effective."

Mekanek let out a laugh. "Well, since He-Man makes most of the petty thieves out there run to the privy, it just made sense that he had to frighten the bigger guys even more. Just imagine the effect having He-Man show up in his lair would have on Tonogrom's digestive tract." Duncan chuckled at the image. "Of course, He-Man will probably show up in a few days and nail me to a wall for taking his name in vain, but it was worth it."

Duncan had a strong feeling that Mekanek was mistaken, and it was just as well that no one had called his bluff, because Mek had no idea just how empty a bluff it had been.

"Well, all I can say, my friend Man-at-Arms, is that you do need to consider getting some more rest or you're going to start making mistakes, and we can't afford that." Mekanek grinned. "After all, how could any of the rest of us approach you with the information?" Pitching his voice a bit higher than usual, he said, "'Um . . . Man-at-Arms, sir, um . . . you've got your armor on backwards.'"

Giving his old friend a mock-glare, Duncan said, "I think there's a larger room down that way where you could find places to shove this junk until we think of something better to do with it."

Mekanek grimaced. "Thanks. See you later."

Duncan walked away. As he climbed the stairs, he wondered how soon Adam would be up to becoming He-Man again. Even more to the point, how soon could he disappear? Right now he wasn't able to be left alone. _A suicide attempt. The Sorceress should know about that._ But she didn't respond to him, she called when she needed something. And he didn't have time to traipse out to Castle Grayskull at the moment. _It will have to wait._ _In the meantime, however, _he thought, as he made a slight detour back to his rooms, _I'm not letting the Power Sword out of my sight._

* * *

The sky above was blue and the sun shone brightly through the skylight. Adam sat on a blue bench that stood against one of the curved walls of the central room of his new home. He had a book in his hands, and he was enjoying the opportunity to read.

His sat back, crossing his legs and rested the book in his lap, then leaned over it with his elbows on his knees. A feeling of peace filled him. He was alone for the moment, with no responsibilities, no tasks, no destiny. The sound of grinding and a slight feeling of movement didn't even distract him from his reading. A door opened and he heard footsteps start across the room towards him. He looked up at Davi, who was smiling down at him, that familiar leer.

Part of his mind panicked and sought to propel him across the room to a door he knew wouldn't open. However, that part of his mind was nowhere near controlling his body. He returned to his reading and ignored her.

She sat down beside him and put her arm around his shoulders, leaning close, placing her other hand on his thigh, slipping it beneath the book. _What happened? I thought I was home, safe! Did I dream that? Did I imagine that? Am I still trapped here?_

The surface him continued to read, ignoring the way her hands moved against the fabric of the clothes he wore. She murmured lightly and the clothes vanished, but he simply kept reading his book. Making a discontented sound, she flipped the book closed and took it out of his lap, tossing it across the room to land in a chair. He sat back, then, and looked at her, wondering what she had planned. Deep within him, he was screaming.

Her hand carressed the bare skin of his thigh and he shuddered internally. Externally, he turned to her and put his arms on her shoulders, drawing her close for a kiss.

Then he woke himself with a hoarse cry.

"Adam!" It was his father, sitting on the bed with him. Adam was lying on his side, curled up with his back pressed against his father's legs. Cringer was stretched out full length on the bed, and Adam had thrown his arms around the great tiger in his sleep, burying his face in the plush fur of his back. Cringer let out a concerned miaow in response to Adam's dismay.

"It's nothing!" Adam exclaimed, feeling himself turn a bright shade of crimson as he realized that a certain portion of his body had reacted to his dream.

"You had a nightmare," his father said reassuringly as Adam sat up and pulled away, wrapping his arms around his legs, shame filling him. Absently, he scratched at an itch on his arm.

His father reached out and caught him as he scratched. "Adam, no scratching," he said. "Isn't the medicine doing anything?"

Adam's eyes widened as he remembered, and he looked down at himself. "I don't really itch much. That just felt like normal . . ." He trailed off as he began to feel slight itches all over his body. "I think it's helping, but maybe we'd better not talk about it," he said, trying to ignore it.

The king nodded, smiling. "Of course."

They sat silently for a couple of minutes, Adam clutching his knees still, and consciously not scratching. Then Adam looked up, almost twitching with the effort of distracting himself from the little itches that shivered along his skin. "Is there something that I'm allowed to do? Because I really need to distract myself from this."

Dorgan walked up and stood beside the bed. "Well, books could be a little iffy, given the possibility of inappropriate influence . . ." Adam thumped his head on his knees, clutching his legs tightly, clenching his fists in the loose fabric of the pajama pants. "Could I have some normal clothes?" he asked suddenly. "I hate being in these stupid pajamas. They make me feel pathetic and useless."

Dorgan's eyes widened, and before Adam realized just what he'd said and what it could mean under the circumstances, the healer was assuring him that he'd send for his usual clothing immediately. Before he could go issue the orders, Adam reached out and caught his arm. "Cards couldn't possibly be too suggestive, could they?" he asked.

"Cards sound reasonable," Dorgan said. "Games in general sound all right."

Adam smiled and looked up at his father. "So, shall we get some cards?"

The king smiled back and reached into the bedside table. They set up for gin rummy and started playing. When his mother came back in, they made it a three-way game. Then Dorgan came back with Adam's clothes and the prince gleefully went back into the bathing chamber to change.

To his surprise, his father accompanied him. "Dad? I have to use the privy, too."

Randor flushed and looked away, but he closed the door behind them. "We're not going to leave you alone right now, son."

Adam felt his skin get hot, but he didn't say anything. He just went about his business, trying to pretend he was alone. He wanted everything to be _normal _again! Washing his hands, he got dressed in his clothes and tapped his father on the shoulder. "I'm not going to do it again," he said with emphasis. "I'm not."

Randor hugged him. "I'm glad to hear it, Adam. I love you."

"I don't stink, do I?" he asked, looking down. "I can still smell . . ." He grimaced. "I can still smell Davi's scent on me."

His father's eyebrows drew together. "No, Adam, you don't smell like anything other than soap and teenaged boy."

Adam nodded. "I dreamed about her," he said, his voice so quiet his father had to lean close to hear. "I dreamed that I was with her and not minding so much. I mean, I could still remember being rescued, and in the dream I wondered if that was a dream, if that makes sense."

Randor put his arm around him and they walked over and sat on the edge of the tub. "I understand what you mean," he said after a moment.

"And in the dream it was like there were two levels of me. On one level I was sitting there, basically ignoring her until she became insistent. On the other, I was panicking and terrified. And I woke up as I started to kiss her . . . willingly."

"It was a dream, Adam," his father said. "A nightmare."

"I know. I just . . . I want to be myself again. I want to have nightmares about normal things, like being trapped in the bowels of Snake Mountain, or walking into court in my underwear." Adam sighed. "Not . . . it just . . . I hate this!"

His father looked thoughtful. "I still have that dream too."

Adam knit his brows. "Which one?"

"Both," the king said dryly. "I've had dreams about appearing in odd places wearing only my underwear for years. The night before the battle during which the Elders vanished, I dreamt I was facing Keldor wearing my underwear and wielding a plunger." Adam had to chuckle. "And I've had nightmares for the past few months about you being trapped in Snake Mountain."

"A plunger?" Adam gasped. His initial chuckle had turned into gales of laughter as the image flashed through his mind.

His father grinned. "It is funny, isn't it? Though it certainly didn't seem so at the time." He sobered after a moment. "When Skeletor had you in Snake Mountain, I was absolutely sure that we would get you back, though Duncan insisted I stay home rather than accompanying the rescue team." Adam's laughter died out. "It was only eight hours that I knew you were missing, but I relive those hours in my worst dreams, with variations."

Adam gulped. "I was fine, Dad," he said. "Man-at-Arms, Teela and Ram-Man got me out just fine."

"I know, but it still comes back from time to time," the king said, looking Adam in the eye. "The frequency has lessened, though, and the intensity has faded."

The prince blinked a couple of times. "You're saying that these dreams will fade in time."

"I am."

Adam was silent for a moment, looking down at his hands. "Dad?" he asked. "What was your first time like? I mean, your first time having sex?"


	10. Unexpected Knowledge

**Chapter 10 – Unexpected Knowledge**

Of all the questions Randor had anticipated, this wasn't on the list, and he wasn't at all sure how to answer it. But deferring it or trying to talk about it later could have disastrous consequences. He didn't want to give Adam the impression that sex was shameful, something one didn't discuss.

He sighed, remembering that long-ago fumbling in the dark in his grandfather's barn. "My first time was . . . not great," he said slowly. Adam turned and stared at him, eyes wide. "It was a year and a half before I met your mother for the first time."

"It wasn't good?" Adam asked, looking dismayed.

Randor shrugged. "I didn't know what I was doing. The girl didn't know what she was doing. It was dark, it wasn't the best place to try it. Whoever called it rolling in the hay has never rolled in hay."

His son gave him an odd look. "But, Dad, I like rolling in hay."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Well, in any case, it didn't work so well. It was messy and awkward, and not very fulfilling for either of us."

Adam seemed very perplexed. "The other guys always talk about their first time as having been terrific," he said.

"Then they're most likely lying," Randor said dryly. "They either haven't tried it yet, or they don't want to admit that it wasn't perfect. That's pretty normal." He squeezed Adam's shoulder. "But my first time doesn't compare with yours really. It wasn't rape, and that makes a big difference."

The boy sighed, and Randor wished he could read his mind. "I just wondered what it was like. I mean, I didn't really have much involvement in my first time." He didn't meet his father's eyes, keeping his gaze on his knee as he spoke. "She just . . . the drugs made it so that I couldn't move much." His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed convulsively. "And she used her hands and her . . . her . . . mouth on me." Randor grit his teeth and tried to stay neutral. "It was gross. And she kept murmuring things, like endearments, but it seemed kind of automatic." He shuddered. "Dorgan told me that I couldn't move because of the drug, but I couldn't figure out what was wrong. I'd try to push her away, but I couldn't make my arms move." Adam looked up at him. "It was like in dreams or nightmares, where you try really hard to move, but nothing happens. You know what I mean?"

"I do," Randor affirmed, squeezing his shoulder again.

Adam looked away. He didn't seem to be able to look at Randor while he was describing the rape. "And all the while, I was feeling . . . things . . . it was like every inch of my skin was tied directly to . . . to . . . that!" He gestured in the vague direction of his genitals. He bit his lip. "I've heard guys talking, and one time one of them said that he'd done it three times in one night and everyone made fun of him, saying it isn't possible. Is that true?"

The edge of the tub was somewhat narrow. Randor shifted to ease the pressure on his posterior. "It's not common," he said.

"Then maybe the drugs make things different," Adam said thoughtfully, looking down again. "I lost count, but I think we did it at least four times that first night." Randor squeezed him tightly, closing his eyes.

"Adam, from the way you're describing it, I don't think 'we' is the operative pronoun."

"Well, part of me sure got involved!" Adam cried.

"That was the drugs, son. You had no control over what was happening."

"You don't think I'm . . . that there's something wrong with me because I got . . . turned on . . . by her?" Adam asked, turning and gazing desperately up into his eyes.

"Of course not!"

"What about now?" Adam asked. "I just had that dream, and when I woke up I was . . . it was . . ." He was beet-red.

Randor blinked. "Hasn't that ever happened to you before?"

"Well, yes, but that was a dream about Lady Nialla, and –" Adam flushed even darker. "I mean . . . I actually . . . she's different."

Lady Nialla was a buxom woman with an aggressively seductive manner. Randor thought that most males between thirteen and dead must have occasional dreams about her. "Well, reacting that way to dreaming of Lady Nialla is perfectly natural," he said. "And to dreaming about Daviona as well, really."

"But it's not the same!" Adam wailed.

"No, it's not. But let me give you some things to consider. First, Daviona spent a good bit of time and effort attempting to insinunate that response into your psyche. Second, despite being vile and evil, she's a beautiful, extremely seductive woman. It doesn't say anything about you that your body has elected to recognize that. Third, you still have some of the drugs in your system. We're going to have to work on flushing them out, because they evidently magically bond with your blood cells."

Adam sighed again. "So I'm normal, reacting in a really weird situation? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes, that's what I'm saying, son." Randor squeezed his shoulders again. "You know, your mother is probably wondering if we fell in."

Nodding, Adam got up. Randor stood beside him, but Adam didn't move towards the door. The king looked down at his son's face, only to see that the boy's eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

"Adam, what is it?" he asked, turning Adam to face him, and putting his hand on his son's shoulders. "Adam?"

The boy threw his arms around him, burying his face in his chest, weeping with wrenching sobs. Randor put his arms around his son, holding him close. "It will be all right, Adam. It will. Life will return to normal, and you'll be happy again."

Adam didn't respond, so Randor just kept repeating the sentiments, stroking his hair and holding him tight.

After a few minutes, the door to the bathing chamber opened very quietly and Dorgan stuck his head in. Randor gestured with his head that the healer should go, and he did. Adam didn't seem to notice, which suited Randor. He just held his son and reassured him as best he knew how.

When they finally emerged, Marlena was sitting at the table with Dorgan, playing solitaire. A pot of steaming tea sat on the bedside table, and the queen got up and crossed the room as soon as she saw them. Pouring them both a cup of the tea, she waited until they were settled back on the bed before handing them over.

"What is this?" Adam said in a voice made hoarse by his tears.

"Mint tea," she said. "Do you want me to add some honey?"

Adam shook his head and started drinking. His mother sat down nearby, and he smiled at her. He kept fidgeting, drinking his tea in small sips as it cooled. Randor could see that he was appreciating the warmth after the rough treatment he'd just given his throat.

He wasn't scratching, thank heavens, but he wasn't doing anything else, aside from concentrating on his tea. Randor wondered what his son was thinking. Marlena looked over at her husband intently, as though trying to read his mind, but the king didn't feel that it was a good time to speak out of turn.

Adam stood up, walked over to the window and pulled the curtain aside slightly, looking out at the night. They'd kept the curtains drawn because these windows led out onto the infirmary garden, and, short of ordering it kept clear, there was no real way to keep people from seeing in.

Marlena gave Randor a speaking look, and he picked up the pad of paper on the bedside table, wrote a quick sentence and showed it to her. "I'll tell you later." She made a face, and he put the pad back on the table upside down.

"You don't want anyone to see me just yet, do you?" Adam asked without turning away from the window.

"Well, we're trying to shield you from influences we can't control," Randor said.

The prince nodded. "Maybe we could bring some of the flowers inside, then," he said. "Or maybe I could move to my bedroom, so that I can have the windows open."

It was on the tip of Randor's tongue to agree and move him immediately, but Dorgan spoke up before he could. "Tomorrow," he said. "We'll move you in the morning."

Adam turned and smiled. "Thanks. That would be great." He walked over and sat down next to his father again. "I am incredibly sore," he said. "I didn't know . . ." He trailed off, looking over at Marlena and flushing. Then he looked down at his tea. When he spoke, it was almost as if he were speaking to his cup. "Mother?" he asked, and Marlena tilted her head. "If I start talking about some stuff . . . about what happened . . . is it going to make you uncomfortable?"

Marlena pursed her lips. "Well, Adam, that's a hard question to answer. Yes, it will make me uncomfortable. Someone did terrible things to my baby and that makes me angry and upset and worried. But I want to hear what you have to say. I want to know what happened to you."

Adam nodded, but he didn't look up, nor did he speak. He kept drinking his tea. "I just don't want to . . . to tell you something that's more than you can handle."

Randor blinked back the hot tears he could feel welling up in his eyes. Marlena stood and put her hands on Adam's shoulders. "Don't you worry about me, son, I'll be okay. You just talk, okay?"

Adam nodded, looking down at his hands. "I . . . was telling Dad about the first time she . . . the first time. The first night."

"I see," she said, glancing over at Randor, who nodded.

Sighing, Adam said, "You know, I heard one of the guards telling his friends about a dream he had once, about where he got abducted by a beautiful woman and held prisoner and . . . the word he used was 'ravished,' kind of jokingly . . . repeatedly." Randor's breathing deepened slightly as he strove to control his reaction to this information. "I don't know what I thought of it then, I don't think it really meant anything to me. I just listened." He looked up at them, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and abject misery. "He seemed to think it was a good thing. I stood there, that first night, before she'd even really touched me yet, and that conversation occurred to me. And I knew what to think of it then."

"Oh, Adam, I'm so sorry this happened," Marlena said, reaching out and taking his hand. Randor wanted to find that guard and strangle him, though realistically he hadn't done anything wrong.

Adam sighed. "Me too." He took a deep drink of his tea, emptying it, and Marlena got up to refill it. When she brought it back to him, he sat for awhile, drinking again in sips while the hot beverage cooled. "So, do you want to hear about the rest of it?" Adam asked finally, shifting into a cross-legged position. "I mean, you haven't asked any questions."

"We weren't sure you were ready to talk about it," Randor said gently. "If you're ready now, we'll listen."

Marlena leaned over and touched him lightly on the knee. "Just be aware that if you get too uncomfortable, you can stop."

He smiled and looked down into the tea. "Most of the time I was there, I didn't do much of anything. I guess, from something she said that last day, that she was draining me of energy, magical energy, somehow. She said I was really full of it for some reason, and that she –" His voice cracked. "That she wasn't going to give me up. That must be why she put that spell on my back."

Randor nodded, wishing he could strangle that bitch.

"It was terrifying and boring, both at once," Adam said. "Dad, what did you do that got her so mad, anyway? I mean, I think she was past that before the first full day was over, thinking about other things, but . . . what did you do?"

As guilt stabbed through him, he looked down at his hands. "She tried, a number of years ago, she tried to persuade me to . . ." He flushed. "I wouldn't have relations with her. She was very persistent, very insistent, but I told her in no uncertain terms that I was not interested in her."

"And then Duncan caught her poisoning your father's wine," Marlena said.

"Poisoning?" Adam falter. "Are you sure? It might not have been poison." He looked very disturbed, and Randor realized what he was thinking.

Marlena's eyes had widened. "I don't know, now that I think of it. The wine was thrown on the ground if I recall correctly, and never tested."

Randor shook his head, feeling rather nauseated. "No, it wasn't tested, and she vanished utterly, or she would have been tried for attempted murder."

"So she stayed angry? How long ago was that?"

"It was before I married your mother," Randor said.

"Did she look any different? I mean, was she twenty years younger, or did she look like she looks now?"

"I didn't actually see her closely," Randor said, "but from what Voren says, she hasn't changed in more than twenty years. We're not even sure how old she is."

"Oh." Adam drank down the tea and looked pensively into the empty cup. When Marlena reached out to take it, he shook his head and smiled at her. "I think I've had enough for now."

"All right," she said, taking the cup and setting it on the counter before she sat down.

"So, what happened that first night, when she was done?" Randor asked.

Adam cast him a nervous glance and looked down at his hands again, seeming lost without the cup. "Nothing. I mean, she did it, and when she was done, she left. I was so tired I couldn't even get myself to get up and go to the privy. Of course, that might have been the tailings of the drug, I suppose." Adam shook his head. "It was the weirdest room. Everything was attached to the walls or the floor, and there were no sheets on the bed. It was just a mattress. You couldn't use anything in there for a weapon." He shrugged. "Not that I would have hand the energy to lift a butterknife."

"How did she feed you?"

He flushed. "Little pieces of food, hand fed." He looked away. "I mean, she literally fed me." Randor glanced over and saw that Dorgan was flipping a sheet of paper on its face and was writing. It didn't look much like the paperwork he'd been doing.

A loud gurgling sound emerged from Adam's midsection, and the boy's eyes widened. "Do you think I could eat now?" he said. "We were going to earlier, but then Teela – and then I –"

"Good lord!" Randor stood up, but Dorgan was already at the door. "I'm sorry, Adam! So much has happened."

"I can't believe I forgot," Marlena exclaimed, standing up and putting her arms around their son. "I'm sorry, dear."

"It's okay," Adam said pathetically. "A suicide attempt can be pretty distracting. I don't think I could have eaten then anyway."

Marlena burst into tears, hugging him tight, and Adam put her arms around her comfortingly. "It's okay, Mother. I'm okay."

She clung to him. "We didn't feed you!" she exclaimed. "How could we not feed you!"

Adam glanced up at his father, who bit his lip. "I –" Randor started to say, but he didn't know where he was going, so he just shook his head. Adam sighed and stroked his mother's back, murmuring reassurances.

Randor looked up to see that Dorgan was at his elbow, and he didn't seem at all disturbed. Adam pulled away from Marlena slightly and said, "Mom! Mom?" She looked up. "It's okay, really." Her eyes were still streaming tears, and Adam looked at her helplessly. "Mom," he said, sounding both distressed and amused. "You're going to float away!"

Marlena let out a laugh and buried her face in Adam's neck for a final tight hug and then drew back. "Well, we can't have that, now can we?" she replied, smiling despite her red nose and puffy eyes.

"Absolutely not," Adam said. "Um, is the food coming soon?"

"It will be here in a moment," Dorgan said.

"And afterwards, could we play a board game or something? I can't just sit still, and I don't want to talk anymore right now."

"Of course, Adam," Randor said. "We can talk more tomorrow."

The food arrived with a bouquet of flowers. Adam exclaimed in pleasure and they settled down to eat. The game, however, didn't happen. Before they'd even finished eating, Adam started falling asleep. He managed to finish the meal, but they had to put him to bed immediately after that.

* * *

Late in the night, Randor was still sitting up, letting Marlena get some sleep, when there was a knock at the door. He got up and walked over to very quietly open the door. Mekanek stood there, looking uneasy.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry, sire," he said, "I need to talk to you about something fairly urgent and you're the only one who could take action."

Randor didn't want to leave Adam alone with Marlena, so he beckoned the master inside and gestured toward the table in the corner away from the bed. Mek sat down and leaned close, speaking quietly. "I'm really sorry, Randor, but this is getting out of hand."

"What is it?"

"Duncan hasn't slept much more than two or three hours in the last three days. He's been so focused on getting that . . . device . . . dealt with." The master shook his head. "I told him he needed more rest earlier today, and he said that I could 'trust he'd sleep when time allows.' Which, as we both know, is code for, 'I'm not sleeping until I'm good and ready.'"

Randor nodded.

"And what makes it worse is that he's got Raon in there, too, running as hard as he is. The kid hasn't been out of that room to do anything other than use the privy since he found it. Now, I'm certain that's hot stuff, and we don't want too many people having access, but at the rate he's going, Duncan's gonna start shooting people. Probably me, the next time I ask him how much sleep he's getting."

Randor snorted. "I get what you mean, Mekanek. And I'm the only one who can tell Duncan to go to bed, is that your point?"

The master tilted his head, giving him a grin. "That's why you're the king – you're so perceptive."

Randor gave Mekanek a very dry look and stood up. "I don't want to leave Marlena alone with Adam just now. And we want one person to be awake with him at all times." Mek nodded. "If he wakes up, be careful what you say to him, he's very suggestible."

"Right," Mekanek said.

"And if he says anything odd, don't worry, just be comforting. And –"

"I know the drill, Randor. I can handle Adam." The memory of Mekanek's lost son Phillip hung in the air between them and Randor nodded.

"I know." He clapped Mekanek gently on the shoulder. "I know. I'll be back soon."

He took a close look at Adam to make sure he was still sleeping peacefully, then he left the room, aching for Mekanek. His son, Philip, had disappeared in the midst of a terrible forest fire nearly ten years before, when he was twelve. Mek had been the first of the group of them to have a child, and it had killed them all, searching for young Phillip, but they'd finally had to conclude that the boy had died in the fire.

Duorno was off duty now, so he nodded to Serin, his night shift bodyguard, and headed out towards the hangar. Serin contacted his pilot and had him waiting by the time they reached the hangar. It was a distressingly short trip from the palace to the place where Adam had been held, a fact that sent another stab of guilt through Randor.

When they landed, he jumped down from the wind raider and walked toward the shack. The soldiers had set up tents outside in the field. Poor farmer Druskin had lost quite a few crops to their work in the complex.

A ladder had now been installed in the space where the elevator had been, and Randor stepped off onto the top rung despite Serin's obvious misgivings. As a bodyguard, Serin tended to be somewhat overprotective, but for most of his duty shifts, his ward was asleep. He wasn't used to dealing with an active Randor.

Conferring briefly with the fellow on duty in the central room, Randor made his way into the quarters Daviona had kept for herself. To say they were luxurious would not give them sufficient credit. Rich silk hangings adorned the walls, and the carpet beneath his feet was soft and deep. He walked through the winding passage till he came to a turn off where two guards were standing in front of a door.

They tried to obstruct his entrance, but he made short work of that, pushing past and opening the door into the room. He stepped inside, shut the door and turned around to see his son . . . doing things his son would never have chosen to do.

He was transfixed by the image of Adam, with vague, despairing eyes, obediently following Daviona's instructions about where to put his hands and lips until there was a sudden exclamation of "Shit!" and the image stopped abruptly.


	11. Freezing

Chapter 11 – Freezing

"Sire!" Raon cried, standing up. Randor's eyes dropped from where he had seen Adam to the face of one of the young men Adam had played with when they were all boys. It was a dreadful juxtaposition, especially with all the blank-faced, young-looking men who had been in the room with Adam and Daviona. He blinked and realized that Raon looked like hell. "You're not supposed to be in here," the young guardsman exclaimed. "Man-at-Arms said –"

"I know what Man-at-Arms said," Randor replied in an amazingly calm voice. Numbness had taken over for the moment, shielding him from having to face what he'd just seen. "When was the last time you slept, young man?"

The boy's eyes went a little vague and he glanced over at a rough pile of blankets in the corner. "I'm not sure, your majesty. It's been . . ." He shrugged helplessly.

"Go upstairs and have the quartermaster issue you a bunk in a tent. Get some fresh air and don't come back down here until you've slept for eight hours and had a good breakfast."

"But sire, someone has to stay –"

"Never you mind, Raon. Someone will guard this place. You need your rest, so go and get it." Raon nodded, stood up, and walked past him towards the door. "And a shower. You also need a shower," Randor added.

"Yes, sire," Raon said as he opened the door and left. Randor sat down in the chair he'd vacated, looking at the machines contemplatively. According to what little Duncan had managed to impart, one of these little boxes recorded events and the other played them back for viewing. He picked up his comlink and held it up to his lips to keep himself from trying to figure out how the boxes worked.

"Man-at-Arms?"

"Sire?" Duncan's voice sounded very tired indeed, but it had that edge it got when he was pushing himself to sound alert. He must truly be on his last legs for it to show that clearly in his voice. "Sire, has something happened to Adam?"

"No, I have another matter I need to discuss with you. Please report to the – what are you calling it? The little room with the recording devices?"

"The viewing room? Sire, you're not –"

"I am. Meet me here, please."

zzz

Duncan hastened from the privy to the viewing room. How had Randor gotten in? What was he doing out of bed? Surely something had happened to Adam and he just didn't want to mention it over the comlinks.

He reached the doorway and the guards stopped him. "You should know, Man-at-Arms, that the king is in there, alone."

Duncan glared at both of them. "I seem to recall giving explicit orders that you were not to allow him inside." They did not meet his eyes.

"We couldn't stop him, sir," one of them said.

"Did you tell him that I had left orders?"

"Yes, sir," the other guard said.

"And what did he say?"

"Move."

Duncan sighed. "And there's not much you can say to that from your king." He walked between the guards and opened the door. "Randor?" His old friend was gazing intently at the viewing machine. There was no image on the screen, but Randor's awareness that an image _could_ be there was palpable. Duncan walked forward and put a hand on his shoulder. "Was Raon watching something when you came in?"

"When did you last sleep, Duncan?" the king asked, ignoring his question.

"I had two hours of sleep about sixteen hours ago," he replied.

Randor snorted and turned around. "You did better than Raon, who couldn't remember." He shook his head. "It's time for you to go to bed, Duncan." Man-at-Arms started to open his mouth, but Randor waved a hand to quiet him. "Choose someone appropriate and trustworthy, put them in here and go to bed."

"It's not that simple."

"It's an order, Duncan," Randor said firmly. Duncan blinked. "I'm adamant. I do not want you collapsing because you haven't had enough rest."

"I'm fine, Randor. I –" Duncan grimaced at the determined look on his oldest friend's face. He sighed. "I can't sleep. I've tried, more than once, but I can't."

Randor's eyes softened, and he stood up. Putting his hands on Duncan's shoulders, he said, "Find someone you trust who can stay in here overnight. Raon has been ordered to sleep for eight hours, get a shower and have breakfast."

Duncan nodded and ran through the soldiers who were present. "Well, there's Theo, he's working on notes in the lab, I think. He could do most of what he's doing in here just as easily, and I trust that he wouldn't look at something he was told not to."

"Get him, and then let's go, because I'm not leaving without you." Randor gave him a cock-eyed grin. "I'll wait here while you fetch him."

Duncan went and gave Theo his orders, then brought him back. He followed the king up to the surface and waited while he gave orders to the camp commander's assistant regarding how Raon would be treated in the morning. "Keep people from putting pressure on him. They're bound to be curious, but they don't need to ask him about what he's doing."

"Yes, sire."

"Thank you."

Once they were aloft, Duncan said, "I'm not going to be able sleep, Randor. I've tried."

"Have you tried asking Dorgan for help?"

"I'm not taking drugs, Randor," he said. Images of needles and blank stares assailed his mind. "I don't think I could right now unless it was absolutely necessary."

"Well, you come with me and look in on Adam, and then we'll figure out what we're going to do about getting you some sleep."

Duncan sighed. He was utterly worn out, but he had tried to get decent rest and repeatedly failed. He had tried desperately to sleep, but he just couldn't. He hadn't considered that Raon wasn't getting enough rest. Maybe he'd feel guilty for that in the morning, when he could think straight. The moment it became clear that Randor wouldn't take no for an answer, his body and brain had responded by starting to shut down.

They landed in Eternos and Randor led him into the infirmary. In Adam's room, Marlena slept alongside her son with Cringer stretched out on his other side. Duncan walked forward, noticing Mekanek vaguely as he crossed the room. _I'll get him later,_ he thought vaguely, quite certain that the interfering busybody had taken matters into his own hands.

Adam slept angelically, a light flush on his cheeks. His head was pillowed on Cringer's neck, and his mother hand an arm draped over him, holding him close. In the presence of the boy who was the focus of the images that had been cascading though his mind for the past days, the images faded. He bent and brushed Adam's cheek, tears coming to his eyes.

"He's so innocent," Duncan said softly. "That woman is monstrous." He sank into a nearby chair, eyes focused firmly on Adam.

"She is," Randor agreed, walking over and putting a hand on his shoulder. Duncan looked up wearily. "You seem considerably more tired, my friend," the king said as he looked down at him.

"Do you mind if I just sit here for a bit?" Duncan asked.

"I'll do you one better than that," Randor said, turning away. He went to the door and Duncan could hear him speaking with someone outside. A few moments later, the door opened and two medics came in carrying one of the folding cots they kept on hand for family members and healers who needed to stay close to their patients. Gratefully, Duncan shed his armor and fell onto the cot for some much needed sleep.

zzz

Teela awoke late in the night feeling disturbed and uncertain. She sat forward, rubbing her eyes, reflecting that it had to be the residue of a dream, but she couldn't remember anything clearly.

She got out of bed, pulling on her robe and stretching. The queen had been most insistent that Teela go to bed and get some sleep, despite the fact that Teela wasn't really tired. _Well, not much._ She'd been pulling sixteen hour shifts outside Adam's infirmary room, keeping watch lest someone disturb him. Ordinarily, her father would probably have put a stop to that, but he was too busy pulling twenty- or thirty-hour days. _Trust my father to fit thirty hours into a twenty-four hour period. _She sighed. _ And trust him to forget to teach me how._

She stopped abruptly as she crossed the room. Adam. That dream had been about Adam. Shaking her head to rid herself of an odd foreboding, she continued toward the bathing chamber and the privy. _What a shock. Adam was raped, and you're having distressing dreams about him. No connection there._

Nevertheless, the niggling feeling of unease stuck with her, denying her sleep when she lay down again. Eventually, she got up again and went out to the balcony off the suite she shared with her father and, sitting down cross-legged, tried to sink herself in the meditation her father had taught her.

But instead of bringing peace and sleep, meditation just made her anxiety deepen. Finally, she got dressed and went down to the infirmary. Slipping past the guards on duty, she peered in to see how Adam was.

Everything seemed perfectly normal – at least under the circumstances. Adam was asleep on the bed with his father and Cringer, her father was sleeping on a cot nearby, and the queen sat crocheting in the corner under a lamp with a very focused beam of light.

The queen looked up, and she wrinkled her brow. "I thought I told you to go to bed, Teela," she said in a quiet voice.

Teela walked over to her side and sat down. "I did. That was hours ago, your highness."

"Was it?" Marlena looked up at the clock on the wall. "I guess it was, but not enough hours. Why are you back?"

"I had a nightmare, and I couldn't get back to sleep," Teela said, knowing it sounded very childish. "I had to check on Adam. Why are you awake?"

"We thought it would be wiser for someone to be awake with him all the time," Marlena said. "Randor took the first shift and I'm taking the second. Are you feeling better now that you've seen him? He's fine, or at least, as fine as he can be, under the current circumstances."

Teela gazed over at him, but she wasn't sure. He seemed peaceful and quiet, his blond hair glowing very faintly in the light Marlena was doing her handwork by. She could not rid herself of this strange feeling. "I just can't stop worrying," she said.

Marlena put her project down on her lap and squeezed Teela's hand. "I know, dear. I feel the same way."

Adam suddenly sat bolt upright. "Where's my sword?" he asked, his eyes startlingly calm and clear. "I need my sword."

Teela stood up and took a few steps forward. "I don't know, Adam. I thought your father had it."

The king was sitting up, blinking, and her father had awakened, too. The queen had already moved past her and was standing beside the bed, looking worried.

"I need my sword," Adam said again.

"Not right now, you don't," her father said, standing up and going over to the bed. "Right now you need to go back to sleep," Duncan said.

"Yes, Adam," Randor said, a hand on his son's shoulder. "Nothing's wrong."

"Grayskull is under attack."

"Adam, how could you know if Grayskull is under attack? It's miles away, and you were asleep. You had another nightmare, son."

Teela noticed, however, that her father had gotten up and walked off into a corner, talking quietly into his communicator.

Adam's eyes had started to become confused. "But I need my sword. Where is it?"

"Don't worry about it right now. You're safe, and –"

"But if Grayskull is under attack –"

"It's not," Duncan said, returning to the bedside. Both of Adam's parents looked up at him gratefully. "I've got people watching, and everything around the castle is quiet and peaceful."

Adam looked up at him. "You're sure?"

"I'm certain. Otherwise I'd be telling your father to sit on you as I ran out the door. Don't worry, Adam, Grayskull is fine." Her father reached down and pressed gently on his shoulders. "Go back to sleep, Adam."

The prince resisted for a brief moment, then sighed. "Okay," he said, and lay back down, reaching out and putting his arm around Cringer's neck. Within seconds he was breathing deeply, clearly asleep.

"What just happened?" Randor asked. "How did you do that?"

Her father's eyes were wide, and he gulped before he spoke. "I don't think he actually woke up, sire," he said slowly, running his hand through his hair. "I think he was talking in his sleep."

"It sounded rather like that," Marlena agreed. "Very focused and irrational."

"Thank you, Duncan, for getting him out of it," Randor said, and Teela smiled nervously at her father. "I don't know if I would have found the right things to say."

Her father just shook his head. "You'd have worked it out. I'm going back to sleep." He went back to his cot and lay down, falling almost instantly to sleep. The king followed suit.

"Soldiers," Marlena said. "They seem to be able to dismiss adrenaline rushes somehow. My heart is still racing."

Teela nodded and turned around. "Father's always been like that," she said. "I haven't caught the knack, yet."

"Well, then, come sit by me and we can unwind together." Marlena put her handiwork aside and picked up the deck of cards. Teela nodded and the queen started shuffling quietly. They played a few hands of gin and had some tea brought in by the medics. Eventually, Teela started feeling sleepy again. The third time Marlena had to remind her that she needed to keep her cards up, the queen let out a low laugh. "I think it's time for the captain of the guard to return to bed," she said.

Teela nodded, agreeing, and rose. She went back to her own room through the halls, got undressed again and climbed into bed. Resting her head against her pillow, she abruptly realized that the odd feeling she'd had that Adam was in trouble or danger somehow was gone. Then she fell asleep.

zzz

Randor stretched, feeling well rested and just slightly stiff, as if he'd come to the very edge of sleeping too long. He sat up and looked around. Marlena sat beside the bed, crocheting something in creamy white. "How late is it?"

"Coming up on noon. Stratos is still triaging our missives, and there was nothing urgent this morning, so I decided to let both of you sleep yourselves out."

"Do I detect a breakfast tray over there?" he asked, and she nodded chuckling. He looked down at Adam and reached out to brush the backs of his knuckles against his cheek affectionately before getting up. When his skin touched Adam's face however, the movement arrested. "Marlena, get Dorgan!"

Without speaking she rushed across the room and out the door. Randor cupped Adam's face in his hands, alarmed by the cold he found there. He checked the boy's pulse, and found it to be strong and steady. Slipping closer under the covers, he pulled Adam into his arms and tucked a leg over his, trying to impart heat to him. His whole body was chill, moreso at the extremities. Cringer also leaned in closer and began licking his master's face.

Dorgan came in rapidly and checked his temperature. "Was he covered?"

"Yes," Randor said. "I mean, Marlena, did the covers slip off at some point before I awakened?"

She shook her head helplessly. "No, you were both tucked in tightly. I don't understand."

"His body temperature is alarmingly low, but not dangerously. Let's get him quickly into a hot bath, though."

Marlena left and Randor could hear water running in the bathing chamber. Dorgan did a few more checks, feeling Adam's hands and toes, then went to join her. Randor felt utterly powerless in the face of this. "Adam?" he said, shaking him slightly. "Adam?"

The boy moved a very little and groaned, but he didn't wake up. Randor had never been so terrified in his life. Dangling in the claws of Skeletor's griffin was nothing compared to this total fear. Was Adam going to be subject to strange maladies for the rest of his life? Was there anything they could do? Randor wanted to kill Daviona, but he also wanted to crush Skeletor as the instigator of this whole mess. And he knew where Skeletor lived.

Dorgan emerged. "The bath is ready."

"Why isn't he waking?" Randor asked immediately. "We've been jostling him, touching his feet and hands and face, but he hasn't done more than groan. What's wrong?"

"I don't know yet," Dorgan growled. "Let's get him into the water and see if we can raise his body temperature."

Randor threw the covers back and lifted Adam in his arms. The boy's body was so cold that he was leaching the heat from his father. Moving swiftly across the room and into the bathing chamber, he lowered Adam into the tub. "Not in the pajamas, dear!" Marlena protested.

"We can take them off when he's in the water," Randor snapped, suiting action to word once he had Adam resting on the bottom of the tub. "What could be causing this, Dorgan?"

"Any number of things, drug reaction not being the least likely. Right now, we'd do better to treat the symptom than to search for a cause."

Chafing under the healer's adherence to common sense, Randor leaned over Adam in the tub, sliding his pants off under the water. They joined the pajama top in a wet splat on the floor.

Marlena took refuge in fussiness. "Honestly, men!" she muttered, picking the wet clothing up and putting it in the sink. As she returned, he put out his hand and caught hers.

"I love you, Marlena," he said, pulling her close, but not taking his eyes off their son.

"I love you, too, Randor," she said, resting one of her hands on top of his head. "Dorgan, is there anything else we can do?"

"I've got Jonis heating up some glop. A warm beverage will help to heat him from the inside, and food is always warming."

"Right," Marlena said. "I just wish there was something more we could do. I wish . . ."

"I wish he would wake up," Randor said. "Adam?"

"Mmph," the boy said, turning his head away from the source of sound.

Dorgan bent over him and pulled his eyes open, flashing a light into them. "His pupils seem normal," he said.

Adam raised his hand weakly and batted at the hands by his face. "Lea' me 'lone," he murmured. "S'eep."

Randor watched worriedly as the healer checked his son's vital signs. It had been less than a week, he realized. New problems could turn up for quite awhile. Adam might never fully recover. Randor closed his eyes, trying control the tears of fury and grief and worry. And guilt.

He'd never felt so helpless before in his life.


	12. Drained

Chapter 12 – Drained

Daviona smiled as she touched the little bubble of power beneath the surface of her abode. It had grown quite small and attenuated in the years since she'd come here and fed it, but a bit of that lovely energy from Prince Adam had brought it up to a quite respectable size again. This wasn't nearly as satisfying nor as successful as direct sexual contact would have been, but it was better than nothing.

For the moment, with Randor's men swarming all over her old home, she had left the power bubbles there alone so as not to draw attention to herself. They had to have some kind of wizard, or they'd never have managed to do what they'd done. If she tapped into those wells of magical energy, their wizard would be sure to notice and he might be able to trace her back.

She had taken the time to clean this place physically, not willing to waste power on it just now, and many of the cushions had fallen away into dust. It was moderately disturbing to see things in such decay. She had surrounded herself for so many years with things and people that were not permitted to age. And a shopping trip might not be in her best interests right now. For one thing, she had a distinct dearth of bodyguards.

That was a situation she would have to remedy soon, but she hadn't the facilities yet to brew the drugs that would enable her to take an older young man and make him her servant. So much had to be rebuilt from scratch.

What she truly needed was Prince Adam back in her control. With his power at her command, she could accomplish anything.

_How is that to be achieved, though? _Lost in thought, she settled back on a divan. _It will have to be subtle . . ._

* * *

Adam opened his eyes. They were gritty, and his mouth tasted nasty. He felt very strange, extremely hot but almost shivery with cold. It was a strange combination. He was also still very tired. He was leaning back against his father's chest, his body swathed in blankets, some kind of cap on his head. His mother sat across the room, crocheting lace for a gown she was having made for the Midwinter festival. Cringer was curled up on his legs, his head resting on Adam's lap.

Suddenly, he identified the flavor in his mouth: the aftertaste of glop in large quantities. He cleared his throat to ask for something to wash away the vile taste, but was unprepared for the reaction he received. His mother got up and tossed her lace down on the table, and his father's arms tightened slightly.

"Adam, are you awake?" he asked softly. Cringer had looked up and was gazing into Adam's eyes.

"Yeah," Adam said. "Can I have something to drink? Something that isn't glop?" Glop was a nutrional supplement, unbelievably sweet but extremely nourishing, that Dorgan inflicted on those who were too weak to feed themselves. Which also meant that they were too weak to run away.

"I've got some hot chai," his mother said, walking over to where a carafe sat steaming on a warmer. She poured him a cup and walked over with it. After a brief struggle, he got one arm loose from the blankets and took the cup.

"Why am I so cold?" he asked perplexedly. "I didn't feel like this yesterday." Though he couldn't see his father's face, he could tell that his parents exchanged a worried look, and Adam bit his lip. "What is it you're not sure you want to tell me?" he asked.

His mother gave him a sympathetic smile. "The trouble is, Adam, that we don't know. We've got you warming up, very slowly, but it's taken the better part of the day."

"The better part. . ." He craned his neck and looked at the curtains. "What time is it?"

She walked over and drew the drapes back slightly and he could see that it was growing dark outside. "Past five," she said.

"I've been asleep all day?"

She nodded.

"Yes, you have," his father said, startling him. Adam jumped and looked over his shoulder. "How do you feel?"

"Absolutely exhausted," he said. "Which doesn't make sense if I've been asleep all day."

His father sighed. "Are you hungry? We have some soup."

Adam evaluated the state of his stomach. "Not really," he said. "I think I've had far too much glop today to be hungry." They all laughed uneasily at that. "So, what are we doing to find out what's wrong with me?"

"Dorgan's still got people working on the drugs, trying to find out what their exact effects are."

Adam blinked thoughtfully, turning his head back and resting it on his father's shoulder. He hadn't spend this much time touching his father in years. "You know, once a fellow started taking those drugs, I'd bet he wasn't ever supposed to stop until . . . . until what? Do they die? Or are they all hundreds of years old?"

His parents were silent for a moment, which made Adam very nervous. "No, they're not hundreds of years old, but they're considerably older than they look. Or at least most of them are."

"Oh." Adam decided he didn't want to think too closely about that. He still had a vivid memory of Trevor's words. _No one ever comes._ How long had that sense of abandonment been building? How many years . . . Adam didn't want to know. Not just now. "My point is, once you start those drugs, you're not really supposed to stop. So even Davi probably doesn't know what the effects of stopping are. She probably didn't care."

His father nodded, and his mother looked deeply disturbed. "That's quite true."

"How are the others doing? Have they stopped taking the drugs?" They were silent again, and Adam wondered what he'd said. "Are they okay? Did someone die?" He bit his lip. "I mean . . . say something!"

"No one has died, Adam," his mother said. "And no, they haven't stopped taking the drugs." Adam's thoughts came to a dead stop.

"What? They're still . . . the needles and everything?"

His mother nodded sadly. "The healers are trying to evaluate what to do about the little boys, but of the older men, from what we've been able to gather from the one or two of them who have proven to be verbal, not one of them is below thirty, and so not one of them has been taking at least some of her drugs for less than roughly eighteen years."

"We're not sure what it will do to them, and Dorgan and Marendra, the healer he's assigned to them, want them to be a little more stable before they start tinkering."

Adam shook his head, absolutely stunned. "You're drugging them? Just like _she _was?"

"We can't just stop, Adam!" his father said. "It could kill them."

"And we have to find out how to best wean them off them," his mother said, leaning close. "I know it can't be easy for you to hear, but you were only given half a dozen doses altogether, and not all of the same drug. Taking you off abruptly is one thing, doing the same to a man who has been taking those substances for forty years is quite another."

"That vile . . . that evil . . . that horrible . . ." Adam paused, utterly at a loss for an appropriate insult that he could say in front of his mother. "She's worse than Evil-Lyn!" He twisted around. "Please, tell me what she did to them!" He turned back to his mother, suddenly remembering something she'd said. "What do you mean, 'proven verbal'?"

There was an exchange of glances, and his mother answered first. "Well, most of them haven't spoken at all. They don't respond to much of anyone besides each other. Marendra can give them commands, Duncan has managed to give us a few relevant command phrases, but she can't take Daviona's place."

"Maybe they don't speak much," Adam suggested. "Only one of them ever spoke in my –" He broke off, knitting his brows. "Why would Duncan be able to tell you about what she said? Unless, is it him the other ones are talking to?" He watched them give each other worried looks and lost his temper. "Would you two please stop looking at each other and start answering my questions?"

"I'm sorry, Adam," his mother said. "We're not trying to upset you. We just don't want to go too fast for you."

"It's a little late for someone to be worried about that," Adam growled. His mother blanched, and he immediately felt guilty for distressing her. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't –"

"It's all right, Adam," she said. "Don't apologize." She reached out and caught his hand, squeezing it tightly, meeting his gaze directly. "You didn't do or say anything wrong." Her eyes bored deeply into his, and he began to feel very focused on what she was saying. "You have nothing to apologize for." He felt some strange sort of answering click inside himself, a deep-seated acceptance, then he tore his eyes away, burying his face in his father's chest. Randor held him, and nobody spoke for a long moment.

Finally, Adam took a deep breath and pulled away. "I'm sorry. That was . . . odd." He looked up at his father. "Has this Marendra tried intense eye contact? It might have some effect."

"I'll suggest that to Dorgan," Randor said. "Now, what just happened?"

Adam looked down at the cup in his hand. "Nothing," he said. His mother took the now empty cup and put it on the bedside table.

"Son," his father said, and Adam could hear a load of parental insistence in that single syllable.

He sighed. "I felt . . . it was really strange." He glanced over at his mother. "You were speaking to me, and we were meeting eyes, and I couldn't look away. And what you said went in really deeply . . . I couldn't _not_ believe it, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, Elders!" his mother breathed. "I didn't mean to – I didn't realize –"

"It's not your fault, Mom," Adam said. He shrugged. "How could you know? I didn't until . . . it was very weird. But it might help with Marendra's ability to get through to the others."

"You're right," his father said. "Though she'll have to be very careful what she says."

The door opened and Duorno poked his head in. Adam smiled. "Hi, Duorno," he said. Duorno had been guarding his father for as long as Adam could remember. The bodyguard smiled and inclined his head. On duty, he was always the perfect bodyguard, but Adam had managed to get him to play with him a few times when he was little.

"Man-at-Arms wishes to come in," he said now.

"Of course," Randor said and Duorno stepped back to allow Duncan in. Adam smiled up at his mentor, but then he remembered what they'd been talking about before his mother . . . this was so frustrating. He felt like a scatterbrained idiot the way conversations kept circling around him and he kept losing the strain of what he was trying to say or ask.

He turned to his mother. "You said that Duncan knew how Davi treated her guards. How does he know that?"

The door had only just shut, and all three of the adults froze in place. "What?" Duncan asked after a moment.

"I'm sorry, Duncan," Adam said. "That wasn't much of a greeting, but I keep forgetting things I want to ask about."

Adam's most trusted ally walked toward him. "What brings this up?"

"I just need to know more about what happened to them. And why do you know so much if you haven't spoken with them?" Duncan looked across at his father, and Adam turned, crossing his arms under the blankets. "Well, are you going to tell me?"

His father's eyes were dark and anxious, but he sighed. Adam had shifted a little further away from his father so that it was easier to look him in the face. He was still cold, and his weariness was catching up with him, but he fought against it tooth and nail. He didn't want to go to sleep without an answer to his question.

"Adam," Randor said seriously, "Davi used some sort of device to record images of what went on her little domain."

The prince stared at his father in shock. "Images? Recorded images?"

"Yes, son. She recorded everything that went on in the . . . could you call it the public portions of that complex?" He glanced up at Duncan.

Man-at-Arms shrugged. "She recorded everything that went on in every room but her own suite. The guards' living quarters as well."

Adam felt as if all the weight had been removed from his body, as if he should almost be floating away on a slightly nauseous breeze. "Everything?" he repeated. "All the time?"

* * *

"Yes, all the time," Duncan said. Adam's eyes grew wide, his pupils enlarging to fill his irises. Duncan didn't know what to say – or if there was anything he could say.

The boy turned and buried his face in Randor's chest; his father's arms came up around him swiftly, holding him as he trembled. Duncan hadn't been prepared for this when he came in, he hadn't expected to suddenly be questioned about the video images.

He walked over, feeling helpless and klutzy, unsure what to do. Taking off his helmet, he shed his armor as well and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached out to put his hand on Adam's back, but when his hand got within an inch of the blanket, he realized it was radiating its own heat. It wasn't a cold evening, so he wasn't sure why something like that was needed. What had happened while he was off working today?

Putting his hand on Adam's back, he said, "I'm sorry, Adam." There was no response from the boy. Marlena had taken up the pad of paper and started writing. She handed it across to him and he looked down.

It was a hasty scrawl, but he deciphered it without much difficulty. "Only been awake about 20 minutes . . . his body's having some kind of temperature problem, maybe related to the drugs, his temp is still a few degrees too low . . . he seems to find most comfort in Randor."

Duncan nodded. He wrote for a moment and handed it back. "The machine is moved. Like Randor said, I used big locks." They had, in fact, installed some very strong locks on the door to the storeroom, and a curtain with both light and sound blocking properties hung across the room inside the door to prevent casual passersby from observing what was going on within. Orko's plan for moving the power source had proven successful, though Ram-Man had needed to carry the little Trollan back to his room because he was so exhausted when he was done that he couldn't even float. He'd have to speak a word into Randor's ear to give the jester some sort of commendation.

Randor raised an eyebrow at Marlena when she had finished reading Duncan's note, and she turned it so he could see. He nodded approvingly, then he looked down at his son's head, stroking the blond hair. "Adam, what can we do?"

The prince looked up suddenly, his eyes streaming tears. "I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to . . . I didn't want to . . . I tried not to . . . I couldn't help –"

"Adam, no, don't apologize."

"But I couldn't help it. I really couldn't!"

"I know," Randor said soothingly.

The boy didn't seem to hear his reassurances. "I wanted her to stop, but there was nothing I could do. And then I started . . . it started . . ."

Duncan couldn't bear it suddenly and he leaned in and put his hands on Adam's shoulders. The wide eyes turned to him. "I know, Adam. It's all right. We know you didn't want to."

"But have you seen what I did?"

"What she made you do," Duncan amended firmly, nodding.

"How can you tell? Doesn't it just look like I'm . . . like I'm . . ."

"No, it doesn't," Duncan said.

"Why?" Adam asked desperately.

"Your eyes," he said, gulping. "I could see your eyes."

Marlena let out a strangled sob, and tears were now running down Randor's cheeks. Adam grimaced, so focused on him that he didn't seem to notice his parents' reactions. "You've seen it, Man-at-Arms?" Duncan nodded, and Adam looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Does it . . . change anything?"

Aware that this could be an extremely dangerous question, Duncan thought carefully. "Well, I don't think I could have gotten any angrier at Daviona, so no."

"I mean about me!" Adam exclaimed, leaning closer. "Do you look at me any differently?"

Duncan gazed into Adam's eyes. "It has changed nothing about the way I feel about you Adam. Not one thing. It made me angry on your behalf, but no, nothing has changed."

A moment passed in relative silence, then Adam leaned across the bed and Randor's leg and threw his arms around Duncan's neck, hugging tightly. Duncan responded in kind, wishing he could put his hands around Daviona's neck right now.

She'd learn a very short lesson about being under someone else's control. And then it wouldn't matter.

* * *

Randor decoded the murderous rage in Duncan's eyes and grimaced. _His eyes . . . yes, they were most . . . telling . . ._ Striving to put the memory of that brief snippet from one of Adam's torture sessions out of his mind, he leaned forward and rubbed Adam's back. His tears had dried up almost instantly. In the years since Adam had gotten too old to want much snuggling with his father, he had grown a good deal bigger.

_But not too big . . . never too big._ Adam drew back from Duncan, smiling self-consciously, and sat down again on the bed. "I'm really tired," he said, his eyelids drooping.

"I'd better go get Dorgan," Marlena said suddenly. "We should have fetched him the moment Adam woke up!" She got up and flew out of the room.

Adam snorted. "I'm going to spend the next while getting poked and prodded a lot, aren't I?" he asked.

"I'm afraid so," Randor said, wondering just how long that 'while' was going to last. How long would it take for these drugs to clear his system? How many of the effects would be permanent? How many side effects would be permanent? He noticed suddenly that Adam was raking his fingers along the skin of his arm, not really paying attention to the angry red marks he was causing. "Duncan, would you had me a pill out of that bottle over there?"

His friend did so as Randor leaned over and poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table. He reached out and took Adam's hand firmly. "No scratching," he said gently. Adam flushed. He took the pill from Duncan and handed it and the water to his son. Obediently, Adam took it and then put himself in the position they'd found worked so well yesterday, his back against Randor's chest, his hands on Randor's knees. Randor tucked the blanket around him properly again and then sat back.

After a moment, Duncan got an odd look on his face, suffused with something like laughter. "What is it?" Adam asked.

"You have identical expressions on your faces," he said. Adam craned his neck to look at Randor's face, then gave up and relaxed against him.

"I wish I wasn't so tired," he said. "Why am I? I mean, I didn't do anything yesterday, and I slept all day today."

Duncan's eyes widened. "All day?" he asked, and Randor realized that Marlena's note hadn't been very specific. Duncan probably assumed he'd been taking a nap.

The king nodded. "I awoke around noon, and we discovered that Adam's body temperature had dropped close to danger levels." His hands still felt cold. "Duncan could you drape that blanket a little better around him?"

Duncan followed his instructions and sat down on the end of the bed. "What did you do?"

"Gave him a hot bath, poured a lot of heated glop into him and then bundled him up."

"Glop?" Duncan repeated, eyebrows raising, and he gave Adam a sympathetic look.

The boy chuckled. "I wasn't awake, at least, so I didn't have to taste it going down. Could I have more chai, though?"

Duncan glanced over, saw where the carafe was sitting on its warmer and went and poured them each a cup. Randor took his with a smile, though he wasn't actually eager for a hot beverage. The blankets around Adam were keeping him more than toasty. In fact, sweat was dribbling ticklishly down his back.

To take the cup, he'd had to release Adam's hands, but the boy just wrapped them around the cup firmly, his fingers splayed, taking in as much warmth from the surface as he could. Randor kept part of his attention focused on his son's hands lest he start scratching himself again. It took time for the pill to take effect.

Duncan sat back down on the foot of the bed, one leg bent in front of him, the other on the floor. Adam cleared his throat. "Have you seen it all?" he asked in a wobbly tone that was clearly meant to be nonchalant.

Randor bit his lip as Duncan nodded. "Yes, my prince, I have."

"Does everyone know what happened?" Adam asked. "I mean, has anyone else seen it?"

"No, everyone doesn't know," Randor said, and Duncan nodded again. "We told most people that you were tortured, but didn't go into details about how. The masters know the details."

Adam nodded impatiently. "But has anyone else seen the . . . images?"

"I saw a very small piece of it," Randor said, and Adam stiffened in his arms. "And Sergeant Raon, who found the device, has been working with Duncan."

"Raon?" Adam's tone was an anguished wail. "Raon has seen it?"

"Yes," Randor said. "We knew he'd be utterly trustworthy. In fact, it's because he found it that no one else has seen it. He immediately put it under guard."

"But he's – he'll – he's got to think –"

"He thinks that Daviona needs to have her head removed," Duncan said, his tone matter-of-fact. "That's it, end of sentence."

Adam drank his chai and didn't say anything right away. "I hate this," he said finally. "I hate this and I hate her."

The door opened and they could hear Dorgan's voice speaking irritably to the queen. "Well, I'm glad someone thought to invite me to the party," he said.

"I'm sorry, Dorgan," Marlena said in a placatory voice. "It wasn't deliberate, we were talking."

"Don't get mad at them, Dorgan," Adam said, leaning forward. "I kept asking questions."

The healer walked in. "Well, I have questions I want to ask you, young man," he said, his tone shifting instantly from irritability to affection. He walked over bent down, looking into Adam's eyes and feeling his pulse. "How do you feel?"

Adam sighed. "Cold and tired, angry and frustrated, pathetic and suggestible . . . I don't know, what exactly are you looking for?"

Dorgan gave him a wry smile. "That covers quiet a lot," he said. "You feel cold, but how do you feel cold?"

"Just cold and sort of shivery," Adam said. "It's like it's on the inside, though. I'm hot on the surface. From the blankets, I think." He glanced around. "Are they heated?"

"Yes, Adam," his mother said. "You can't tell?"

"I wasn't sure."

Dorgan nodded slowly, then went on. "Do you feel any pain? Any numbness?"

Adam shook his head. "No. Should I?" There was an edge of panic to his voice suddenly, and Randor glared at the healer.

"No, no," he said in a reassuring voice. "I'm just asking questions." Dorgan sat back in the chair that Marlena had occupied. "You're tired, you say. What kind of tired?"

Adam let out a deep sigh, nestling closer against Randor's chest. "Like I've been chasing Skeletor back and forth across the Dark Hemisphere all day and half the night."

Randor looked down at the top of his head in surprise, and the others gave him similar startled looks. Adam looked at them. "What? It's a metaphor. Or no, wait, it's a simile. I used 'like.'" He squinted up at Man-at-Arms. "That's right, isn't it?"

Duncan nodded, a bemused expression on his face. "Yes, Adam. A simile."

"How long has he been awake?" Dorgan asked.

Marlena looked up at the clock on the wall above the bed. "About thirty-five minutes now."

"And do you want to go back to sleep, Adam?"

Randor couldn't see Adam's face, but he could guess at the expression from the reactions of the others. He had that teenaged, 'are you crazy?' look. "No, I don't want to sleep. But I think I could probably fall asleep if I tried."

"He was almost asleep earlier," Duncan said. "Probably ten minutes ago."

Dorgan nodded and got up to go over to the counter. He brought a thermometer back with him and checked his temperature. Adam suffered having the annoying thing stuck in his ear with nothing more than a sigh. "Still uncomfortably low," the healer said.

"What does that mean?" Adam asked plaintively. Randor gazed up at Dorgan, the same question in his thoughts.

"That's uncanny," the older man said. "You two have the same eyes."

"Dorgan!" Adam begged.

"I –" The healer sat down again, looking earnestly at Adam. "I don't know yet, Adam, what it means in terms of your recovery. What I do know is that I'm going to put you on a monitor, and have a medic come in every fifteen minutes to make sure everything's all right."

"Are you afraid it might drop again?" Marlena asked worriedly.

Dorgan looked incredibly frustrated. "I don't know what could happen. I don't know why it happened in the first place."

A quiet, almost tentative question from Adam froze them all in their tracks. "Am I going to die?"


	13. Under Attack

**Chapter 13 – Under Attack**

His mother, his father, and Duncan all burst into a flurry of reassurances, but Adam looked up at Dorgan, who was remaining silent. "Dorgan?" he asked.

His voice seemed to hush the others, who all fell silent, though he could feel his father practically vibrating with the effort of keeping his words in.

The old healer pulled his chair a little closer and reached out to squeeze Adam's hand. "I don't know, Adam. It's possible." The prince nodded, feeling a little unreal. "But I'm doing everything I can to prevent it, boy, and you know that's quite a lot."

Adam smiled. "Yeah, I know." He sighed, looking down at the cup in his hands. "If the only way to save me . . . is to put me back on those drugs . . ." He gulped. "I want you to do it, but only for long enough that I can get an heir. And then . . . just stop them again."

Dorgan seemed to expand, and then he exploded. "I will make no such asinine promises, young man!" he shouted, standing up. "I will do whatever it takes to save you and then deal with the consequences."

Adam leaned forward, pulling partway out of the blankets. The air hit him and he discovered just how cold he was, but he ignored it. "I can't live like that!" he exclaimed. "I can't –"

Dorgan leaned down and pulled the blankets back around him and hugged him. "Don't borrow trouble, boy. If we have to put you back on them, we'll solve the problem then. You won't have to live like that."

Adam looked into his eyes as the healer drew away. "You promise?" he asked.

"You have my oath that I will not give up until you are completely well again."

He didn't feel an internal click as he had with his mother, but Adam believed him. "Thank you," he said.

Dorgan looked at him for a long moment, then said, "Adam, have you considered making a will?"

"Dorgan!" his father exclaimed. "That's a wretched thing to ask."

Adam blinked thoughtfully then turned. "Why?" he asked his father. "You had me name an heir when I turned sixteen."

"That's entirely different!" His father's eyes were wide and furious. "There's no call for this suggestion at this time!"

Adam tilted his head. "Because you're afraid now that I might die?" he asked. "Is that it?"

The king's eyes filled with tears and, clutching Adam to him, he started to sob. Adam was shocked. He reached down and put his hands on the backs of his father's hands. "It's okay, Dad," he said. "Dorgan's going to do his best. I'll be fine." He searched for the right words. "Making a will doesn't mean I'm going to die, just that if I do, everything will be prepared."

A moment later, his mother was hugging him from the front and he felt very surrounded. "Of course, Adam. Whatever you want," she said.

The prince looked helplessly up at Duncan and Dorgan. The healer was very nearly as phlegmatic as usual, but how many times had he asked that question in the presence of friends and relatives who didn't want to hear it? Duncan was . . . wiping tears from his eyes? Not Duncan too!

Adam let out a deep sigh and rolled his eyes, and waited for the storm of tears to pass. Finally, his parents recovered themselves. He sat back against his father's chest, which was beginning to feel a little ridiculous. On the other hand, he felt safe and protected, and his father seemed to like it.

Making a will sounded like a good idea, but as he leaned back, he discovered that his eyelids were too heavy to stay up. "Um, I think I'm going to fall asleep now," he said. "It's not even late yet, is it?"

"No, but you may wake up again later," the healer said. At the wide-eyed look on his mother's face, Dorgan hastily amended his statement. "I meant he might wake again later today!"

Adam laughed at the annoyed look his mother gave the healer, and in mid-laugh, he conked out.

* * *

Randor shifted Adam down into a more normal sleeping position and covered him up. "Marlena, do you want to slip in beside him?" he asked. She nodded and he stepped back, then tucked them both in tightly. Cringer stretched out full length along Adam's body and Randor stood up. "Dorgan, I need to use the privy, and then I'd like to have a talk with you in your office."

He could tell that the healer recognized the anger in his voice, but Dorgan just raised his eyebrows and said, "I'll get the monitor set up, and give Sevedra her instructions, and then I'll meet you there."

That list of tasks gave Randor sufficient time to get cleaned up, at least a little. He was sweaty and felt like he needed a full bath, but he settled for a bit of a cat bath and went to Dorgan's office.

He didn't have to wait long. Presumably, Dorgan had already spoken to Sevedra, because he had to have known before going in there that Adam would need some kind of monitoring. Duncan had stayed in the room with Adam and Marlena.

As soon as Dorgan shut the door behind him, Randor stopped holding his anger back. "Why in the world did you tell him he might die?" he demanded.

Dorgan turned towards him and said, "It's the truth."

"That's not the point!" Randor shouted.

"Isn't it?" Dorgan asked, walking around to go sit down in his desk chair. "Feeding him platitudes won't help, Randor. He's of age, he asked a serious question, and I answered it honestly. If I stop answering his questions with honesty, he might return the favor and then where would we be?"

Randor glared at him. "It's only natural that we'd want to shield him from this! After what he's been though, wouldn't you want to shield your children?"

"After what he's been through, most emphatically not!" Dorgan stood. "Lying to him now could have dreadful consequences, Randor. I really think he's had quite enough of falsehoods and having his environment manipulated for him."

Randor sank into the chair that stood before the desk. "I just – he's not going to die, is he? You don't really mean that he might, do you?"

"Ah, now we come to the heart of the matter," Dorgan said, sitting down. "Randor, I wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true. He could still die. I don't know precisely how those drugs interacted with his system, but keeping him on them wasn't an option for quite a number of reasons." The healer shook his head. "He wasn't on a regular schedule yet, from the information that's come my way from Raon and Duncan, so I wouldn't have had any way to judge what he needed. He would have panicked if I'd approached him with a needle, a fact which we had ample evidence of. And his father would have broken my arm if I'd tried."

Randor nodded, unable to contest any of those points. "But there has to be something we can do! He can't die, Dorgan. I refuse to accept that."

"I'm not accepting it, Randor. I'm going to fight as hard as I know how to prevent it, but the facts are the facts." He shook his head. "I have no idea whatsoever why his temperature dropped like that. I don't see any source for that kind of a reaction in the drugs, and Orko is out right now so I can't ask him."

"Orko is out?"

"Yes, evidently the effort he made today helping to move that device taxed him greatly, because Duncan had us send a medic up to look at him. Not that we know much about his kind, but Jonis tried to make him comfortable."

"I'm glad of that," Randor said, furrowing his brow. "We need to do what we can for him. He's been an enormous help, hasn't he?"

Dorgan nodded. "Randor, you need to understand, we are acting in a complete vacuum here. From what I gather of Raon's report, and the way Marendra says the young men we're holding behave, they were never meant to be taken off the drugs. Daviona would just decide when they had reached the end of their life span and end it. So there's no evidence of what the withdrawal symptoms should be like, because I very much doubt she ever tested that."

Randor nodded miserably. "Like Adam said, she probably didn't care."

"Adam said that?"

"Yes, he'd come to the conclusion you just stated."

"Well, his brains are still working then," Dorgan said. "That's a relief."

Randor bit his lip. "You're saying that you are genuinely not sure what to do for him?"

"I am." Dorgan sighed. "Why do you think I've got Sevedra going in every fifteen minutes? It's not an exercise, Randor. I have no idea what could come up next."

The door opened and Duncan came in. "I sat Mekanek in the room with Marlena. I figured you wouldn't mind him since you did it last night."

"Of course not, but Duncan, why –"

"I forgot something Orko told me and I need to tell you and Dorgan right now." Duncan looked as if he'd bitten something sour. "That glyph, the reason he couldn't remove it is because it's tied into Adam's heart and lungs somehow. He didn't want to say that in front of Adam."

Randor felt as if he'd just had his legs chopped out from under him. "It's what?"

"It's tied into his heart and lungs. According Orko, the easiest way to deal with a glyph is to remove the power, but if you do that with this one, it could kill Adam because of that link."

"Good lord. How much magic did that woman use on him?"

"Orko didn't say."

"Can the damned thing be removed?" Randor asked.

"He didn't say it couldn't, he just said it wasn't possible using the easiest means."

"Could that be what's causing this reaction? The cold and the exhaustion?"

Duncan shook his head, his brows knitting. "I don't know, Randor. I don't know enough about magic."

"What about the Sorceress?"

"I haven't been able to go to Grayskull to contact her."

"Perhaps you should go now," Randor said.

"Of course, sire." Duncan nodded and left.

Randor pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I'm going to go see Orko."

* * *

Duncan flew to Grayskull, barely even noticing the landscape he passed over. He hadn't been able to get away to see the Sorceress since the rescue, and her silence had made him somewhat nervous. He had a feeling that she knew exactly what was going on. She had her magic window on the world and could undoubtedly peek into the palace on whim. That she hadn't communicated with him suggested to him that she either didn't have a solution to the problem, or that she didn't like the solution she did have.

He landed at the edge of the abyss and got off the sky sled. The drawbridge lowered as he approached, and he took the path at a run. The halls were dark, which was unusual. Ordinarily, they lit up a path that led him to her.

The only path he knew without guidance was the one to her throne room, so he hurried along it as swiftly as the total darkness permitted.

As he turned the second to last corner, a dim light ahead told him that the throne room was lit, which likely meant it was occupied. He ran on, hoping that he wouldn't find her somehow injured or overstrained from having to fight Skeletor and his minions off with only Orko to help.

She sat in her throne, gazing into a glowing ball of energy that hung in the air before her. Uncertain whether he dared interrupt her, he stopped at the base of the stairs. After a few moments, the ball of power dissipated and she looked down.

"How is he?" she asked, concern in her eyes.

Duncan started up the stairs. "Not well at all," he said. "We're not sure what's wrong with him at the moment. He's suffering from a great exhaustion and low body temperature, and we're not sure how to alleviate it."

"But you do know the cause?" she asked, obviously expecting him to reply in the affirmative.

He shook his head. "No, Sorceress, we don't. What is it?"

"Has Orko said nothing?"

"Orko hasn't seen him, Sorceress," Duncan said. "And he's been away from the palace most of the time of late."

"I see." Her eyes were dark with worry. "Duncan, he is being drained of energy. That wizardess has some piece of him, I believe you said she took away some of his blood, and she is using that connection to him to drain his life force."

"What?" Duncan's jaw dropped. It explained so much.

"I have been trying to trace her by following the path the energy took, but it dissipates as it crosses the distance, and before I find her, it becomes too faint for me to follow."

"Does it have anything to do with that glyph?"

The Sorceress shook her head firmly. "No, nothing at all. I watched the images with you, and I saw her draw that glyph. It is a simple spell which she augmented by tying it into his physical system. That way it takes no energy from her at all."

"So his own body is powering the spell?"

"It's an unusual twist. She is a genius at spellcraft and chemistry." Her eyes had gone as cold as the emeralds whose color they shared, and her face was set in an expression of frigid animosity. "But the spell does not link her to him for that reason. She has only the bond of the blood she took, nevertheless, it is enough to allow her to draw on his innate energy, though not without consequences." The anger in her face seemed to grow even more intense. "Yet she seems to have managed to work things such that Adam bears the brunt of those consequences as well. She has to draw twice as much energy from him as she needs, because the strand of power attenuates as it flows out, unless she works out a way to shield the link, but if she does that, I will be able to follow it."

"How can we stop her?" Duncan asked. "We can't afford for him to be weakened like this, and she could easily kill him, even without intending to."

"I'm quite aware of that," she replied. "You had better bring him here. Once he's within the walls of Grayskull, she won't be able to draw on his energy, and I might be able to put a shield on him that will permit him to leave."

"Of course, Sorceress," Duncan said. "I'd better go back immediately and tell Randor."

"And, Duncan, hurry. She may try again tonight."

He left the castle, her words spurring him to greater speeds than were technically safe.

* * *

Randor went to the room they had assigned to Orko when he'd joined the family all those years ago by saving Adam from the swamp hoppers. He knocked lightly, but there was no answer so he pushed the door open and went in.

Orko's room was always a mess. Randor had finally ordered the maids not to worry about it because there was no point in trying to keep it neat. The magician was not tidy by nature, and he claimed there was a method to his messiness. Besides, the maids had occasionally discovered magical surprises under dirty clothes.

As he picked his way carefully across to the bed, Randor was mindful not to tread on anything. He stopped, looking down at the jester who had proven so extremely helpful over the last few days. It was a shame to disturb him, but Randor needed answers, and in case Duncan couldn't get them, he needed to try with Orko.

He knelt by the bed and gently shook Orko's shoulder. The Trollan rolled and his glowing golden eyes opened into slits. "Mumph?" he said.

"Orko, I need to talk to you," Randor said.

Blinking, Orko looked up at him. "Your majesty?" he said. "Your majesty! Is Adam all right? Is he worse? Is he bleeding? Is he –"

"Orko, hush and I'll tell you how Adam is." The jester fell silent, watching him with wide eyes. He wasn't floating, but simply resting on the bed. "He's very cold, and he's extremely tired. We're not sure why. Could it have something to do with the glyph?"

Orko shook his head. "No, the glyph is passive, and if someone was meddling with it, it would stop Adam's heart, not drain him like that."

Randor felt his own heart skip a beat. "What do you mean, drain?"

"Well, that's what it sounds like." Orko reached out and touched Randor's hand. Ordinarily, the Trollan's skin temperature was uncomfortably warm when he touched a human, but right now, Orko felt just slightly warmer than human normal. "I used up a lot of energy today, so I'm cold and worn out. I drained myself. It sounds like Adam's been drained, though I couldn't be sure without looking. But given Daviona, I think it's a good guess."

Randor nodded. "I agree. What do you do for that?"

"Rest and do things that warm you up," Orko replied, pointing to the heating carafe beside his bed. "I was prepared for this today. But if she's done it once, she won't be satisfied. She'll do it again and again and again . . ."

Randor closed his eyes. "I see. Is there some way to block her access to him?"

"I don't have that kind of power, even normally. Right now I couldn't levitate a handkerchief, much less put a shield that strong around Adam. You need to take him to Grayskull."

"But the Sorceress won't let anyone inside for more than a few hours. How will that help?"

"Oh, she'll let Adam inside," Orko said with assurance. "I bet she'd let Adam stay as long as he wanted." He yawned and turned over again, falling back asleep. Randor stood, puzzled by that last statement, but he turned to go.

He had to get Adam packed up and work out how to tell Marlena and Dorgan what they were going to do. First he went to Adam's room to gather up some things for him, then to his own room. He was damned if he was going to leave Adam there alone.

* * *

Duncan arrived back in the infirmary just in time to see a heated, if very quiet, argument going on between Randor and Marlena just outside Adam's door. "I _need_ to be there, Marlena. He feels most comfortable with me," Randor said. "So I need you to stay here and manage the kingdom."

"What's going on?" Duncan asked, walking up to them. "Who's with Adam?"

"Mekanek and Dorgan," Marlena said. "Randor says that Orko says that we need to take Adam to Castle Grayskull. He's already packed Adam's and his own things to head out, without consulting either me or Dorgan."

Duncan nodded slowly. "I see."

"We don't even know if the Sorceress would be willing to allow him into the Castle," the queen went on.

A voice spoke in his mind suddenly. _"And whichever of his parents chooses to come, and perhaps a medic or healer, to save argument. They must simply agree to stay where I put them."_

Man-at-Arms blinked a couple of times, then said, "She suggested it."

"You managed to see her," Randor said in surprise. "What exactly did she say?"

"She says he's being magically drained."

Randor nodded. "That's what Orko said!"

"But he didn't come down here and look at him," Marlena protested. "Nor did the Sorceress come here and look. How do either of them know?"

"Well, the Sorceress sensed it happening," Duncan said. "She's been trying to follow it to its source, but she couldn't find it."

"Why didn't she tell us?" Marlena demanded.

"She was too busy searching, and she assumed that Orko would be able to tell us."

"I see." The queen sounded marginally mollified.

"She says that I should bring Adam, one of you and a medic or healer. You'll just have to agree to stay in the rooms she assigns to you."

"Of course," Randor said. "Adam and I are ready to go now." Marlena's face creased with distress. "Dear, it's just –"

"No, you're right, damn that woman!" Marlena clenched her fists in fury. "I'll see to things here," she said quiet, even tones. "But how long will he have to stay there?"

Duncan grimaced. "The Sorceress says she might be able to put a shield on him that would protect him from being drained."

"Yes, but how do we test it? Bring him out and let the witch try it?" Marlena blanched and turned away sharply. "I'm sorry," she said in a muffled voice. "I'm having trouble handling this."

Randor pulled her into his arms. "It's a good point, though. We need to find a way to locate her, so we can protect Adam more completely." His expression grew grim. "More permanently."

"Yes, but in the meantime –"

Marlena cleared her throat and pulled away from her husband. "In the meantime we need to determine which of the medics is going with you, so I'll go in and send Dorgan out."

She turned and went into the room and a moment later Dorgan emerged and said, "Shall we take this conversation into my office?" Randor nodded and they followed him in. Once the door was closed, Dorgan raised his eyebrows. "What is going on that has Marlena so dismayed?"

"We know what's happening to Adam," Randor said.

Dorgan's eyes widened. "What? How? And what is it?"

"Daviona has a vial of his blood, and she's using the innate connection between what was once part of Adam and Adam himself to enable her to drain his life energy from a distance," Duncan said.

The old healer gaped for a moment, but recovered quickly. "And the prescribed treatment?"

"We need to take him to Grayskull," Duncan said. "Her magic won't be able to penetrate those walls, and the Sorceress has said that we can bring one of his parents and a medic or healer. Who do you want to send?"

Dorgan blinked. "Well, you're certainly concise," he said.

"She also pointed out that Daviona might try again tonight."

"I see. Well, just let me gather a few things. Will we be able to get samples and such out and reports and such in?"

"I think that can be arranged," Duncan said. "She's very worried about him."

"Anyone who knows him would be," Dorgan agreed. "I'll get my things and be ready in ten minutes. And I'll send Sevedra in to get Adam ready."

"Wait," Randor exclaimed. "You're going to come? I would have thought –"

"Then you would have been mistaken," Dorgan said shortly. "I'll be ten minutes."

Duncan turned to his king. "Comlinks don't work in Grayskull," he said. "I gave her one once, and it shorted out the instant she tried to use it."

"I see. Well, I'll take one, but I'll remember to go outside to use it."

"I don't know the range on the dampening effects," Duncan said. "I never checked it."

"Then I'll take two," Randor said, smiling. "Just in case."

As they walked into the main room of the infirmary, Teela came running in, her eyes wide and dashed into Adam's room. She came out again a moment later looking puzzled. Duncan crossed quickly to her and said, "What's wrong?"

"I have this terrible feeling that something bad is happening to Adam, but he's fine." Randor had come up beside him. "I'm just so paranoid about him lately."

"A feeling?" Duncan asked. _Are her powers manifesting?_

"I had one last night, but he was fine then, too."

Duncan pushed her aside and walked into Adam's room. The boy was sleeping, but he seized the thermometer that sat on the beside table and placed it in his ear. The numbers blinked up and then started lowering at a rapid rate. "Damn it to hell! She's doing it now!"

"What?" Randor thundered. Adam stirred slightly, but didn't wake.

Sevedra walked in and stopped, looking startled.

"His temperature is dropping right now. Look!"

The numbers stopped dropping at the same rate . . . then they stopped going down at all. "What's happening?" Randor asked.

"I don't know," Duncan growled.

"Do we dare move him?" Sevedra asked.

"We have to," Duncan said as Randor scooped him up. "We have to stop her."

Marlena had her arms around Teela and was clearly explaining the situation to her. Duncan followed Randor out into the main room of the infirmary. Over his shoulder, he shouted, "Have Dorgan follow on!"

They hurried to a wind raider and Duncan climbed up, took Adam while Randor climbed in, then handed him back and took off. When they landed, Duncan jumped down and they repeated the process in reverse. The drawbridge lowered as they approached and Randor didn't miss a stride. The lights came up as they reached the door, and the drawbridge slammed closed behind them.

The Sorceress herself came around the corner before they had moved more than ten feet in. She hurried to Randor's side and put a hand on Adam's head. "Bring him."

The king followed the Sorceress, and Duncan brought up the rear. "Dorgan's coming," he said.

"The drawbridge will open for him and the castle will lead him to us."

She led them to a small room near the entrance that had a low bench. "Put him down here," she ordered. Randor put him on the bench and knelt beside him, whipping off his cloak to use as a pillow. She knelt on the other side and put her hands on either side of Adam's head. There was a brief glow between her hands and his head, and then she sat back.

Adam's eyes opened and he looked up. "Sorceress?" He sat up. "What am I doing here? Did something –"

He broke off as Randor pulled him into a hug. "Adam!"

"Dad?" Adam's eyes widened and he turned. "What . . . what happened?"

"Daviona was draining you of your very life force," the Sorceress said. "She might have killed you tonight if she hadn't stopped abruptly. I believe she realized that she had made a mistake and could not use this method so soon again."

"Davi?" Adam said in a weak voice, leaning closer to his father. "How?"

"She has some of your blood, Adam," Duncan said. "She's using it to connect to you. We didn't realize it, but that's what happened that made you so cold."

"And so tired," Randor said.

"So why do I feel better now?" the boy asked.

"Because I replaced some of the energy she stole from you," the Sorceress said. "You should be fine for now."

"Oh."

"What will that do to you?" Duncan asked. "Will it weaken you too significantly?"

She met his eyes with a serious gaze. "No," she said simply. He nodded and let it drop, though he wasn't altogether certain how she could have given Adam that much power, yet not be worn out herself. No doubt she could see his reservations, for a moment later she spoke in his head. _"I simply took the energy from a source he draws on himself . . . the orb of the Elders."_

Duncan felt his eyes go wide, and he gulped, glancing down at his prince, who was leaning close in his father's arms. Before he could ask anything else, the door opened and Marlena ran in followed by Dorgan. She dropped the bags that Randor had packed and then left behind in his worry for Adam and threw her arms around her husband and son.

"Mother?" Adam looked astonished. "Why – what's going on?"

Neither of his parents seemed disposed to explain things to him, the Sorceress rarely lent herself to explanations unless it was urgently necessary, and Dorgan was seeming just a little nonplussed. That left Duncan, who took it upon himself to explain.

"We brought you to Grayskull because its walls will shield you from Daviona's attempts to drain you," he said.

"Oh," Adam said, shifting slightly.

His parents drew back to give him some space, and Adam looked around. "How long will I have to stay?"

The Sorceress stepped forward. "Hopefully I'll be able to shield you from her attempts to draw energy from you, but it may take me a few days to discover the best means." Adam nodded, smiling at her gratefully.

"What happened?" Marlena asked, gazing in surprise at Adam. "Did he recover when you got here?"

"No, dear, the Sorceress replaced the energy Daviona stole."

Marlena looked up at the other woman and then stood. Going to the Sorceress, she said, "Thank you so much."

Duncan was startled a moment later when the Sorceress spoke in his mind again. _"Duncan, go greet your daughter – she just opened the drawbridge on her own!"_


	14. Sanctuary

Chapter 14 – Sanctuary

He nodded and went out the door, almost running along the lighted path. He could hear Teela shouting as he reached the entry hall. "Where is he? What's going on?" She was surrounded by some of the illusionary guardians of Grayskull, and Duncan wondered why. As he approached, they drew away into the darkness.

"Father, where's Adam? Why did that happen?"

He put an arm around her shoulders. "Come with me."

As he'd half-expected, the Sorceress was gone when he arrived back at the room where Adam was. She always avoided seeing Teela face to face. He wondered if there was some reason beyond her desire not to be in the presence of the daughter she could not acknowledge.

Adam looked up as they entered, and he smiled, though a little uneasily, Duncan thought. "Teela? Everyone's here." Unspoken, but clear from his expression, was the fact that he found it all a little weird. Duncan sympathized.

"Teela, Duncan and I can't stay," Marlena said softly. "Dorgan and your father will be staying here with you. But when . . . well, your departure from the palace was a bit precipitous. Teela and I wanted to see that you were well, and your father forgot his luggage."

"And Dorgan needed a pilot," Teela added helpfully, walking over. "So, you feeling okay, brat?"

"Better than I was," he said, scratching his head the way he did when he was embarrassed. Randor caught his hand. "What? Oh, I don't think that's the bad kind of itching, Dad, I really don't."

The king released his hand a bit sheepishly, and Adam dropped his hands into his lap. For a moment again, their expressions were identical, mild embarrassment. Duncan blinked.

"How about if all of you give me a little space," Dorgan said testily. "It's all well and good to say that this woman replaced his energy, but I'd like to get a look at him."

The others backed off, but Randor didn't move, so Dorgan, raising an eyebrow, went around to Adam's other side. He checked Adam's eyes and ears, took his temperature and his pulse, made a few other routine checks on on his reflexes, then he sighed. "Adam, I'm going to take a blood sample, all right?"

Adam flushed hotly, and Duncan saw his eyes flash to Teela. "Sure," he said, but his voice wobbled a bit as he spoke. He looked away as Dorgan pulled out the needle. His father took his other hand, and Adam gripped it tightly. Duncan walked up and put an arm around his daughter's shoulders. She looked perplexed, and it was very like Teela to start asking questions the minute she found herself confused by something. He didn't think now was the time.

When she opened her mouth, he looked down at her with an expression that made her subside. She seemed mildly irritated, but that passed after a moment.

Dorgan drew out several vials of blood into his prepared sample jars, labeled them quickly and passed them across to Duncan. "See that these get to the chemists." Then he packed away his needle and said, "Well, that's done with."

Adam opened his eyes and relaxed slightly, glancing up towards Teela again. What he saw there seemed to reassure him, because he relaxed completely. Duncan glanced down and saw that she had her lip caught between her teeth. Her eyes were warm with unspoken emotion.

Abruptly, she rushed across to sit next to Adam and gave him a great big hug. Adam's eyes widened, and he hugged her back. "Teela, I'm okay," he said.

Teela let out a wail. "I thought you were dying! We all were afraid you would be dead when we got here!"

Adam's eyes widened still further. "What?" He looked up at his mother, who put her hand on Teela's shoulder and squeezed.

"Speak for yourself, girl!" Dorgan said gruffly.

Teela looked up, eyes streaming with tears. "But, you said it!"

"What I said was that it could have killed him, not that I was afraid he was dead."

"Then why did you keep hitting that panel with your fist?" Teela demanded.

"Because I wanted the bloody ship to go faster! I don't like being separated from my patients!"

Marlena smiled, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Dorgan, you've already been separated from your patience, long ago."

Duncan bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Randor made no such effort and his laughter echoed from the walls of the room. Dorgan's jaw dropped, and he looked astounded for a brief moment. Then he closed his mouth and drew a cloak of injured dignity about himself.

Adam and Teela both had that expression teenagers get when they realize that their parents have senses of humor, and that adults poke fun at other adults.

The Sorceress spoke in Duncan's mind. _"I cannot come in while Teela is there."_

"_And?"_ Duncan wasn't altogether sure what she expected of him.

"_Can you get the ones who will not be staying to return home?"_

"_I'm sure Marlena will want to see where he's staying. What harm will it do if Teela sees you?"_

"_It's not Teela seeing me that is the trouble, Duncan, it's people seeing Teela and I together."_

"_I see . . ."_ He supposed they did look a lot alike. _"Perhaps if you lit a path to the rooms Randor, Dorgan and Adam will be sharing, I could take them all there, then guide the others out again. I could tell them that you have business elsewhere in the castle and will be by later to look in on Adam."_

"_Very well."_ She sounded less than pleased with the plan, but resigned to it.

A moment later, a door on the opposite wall opened, and the hall outside it lit up.

"That's our cue," Adam said, gently disengaging from his father and Teela. "She must have business elsewhere in the castle right now."

"Yes," Duncan said, amused by how quickly Adam caught on. They walked out into the halls. Seeing how interested Teela was in the areas that were not in the light, Duncan walked beside her and put his arm around her shoulders.

Teela held back a little, letting the others get ahead of them, and Duncan looked down at her. "Father?" she asked. "Is he going to get better?"

"He's already improved immensely, Teela. Why do you ask?"

"Dorgan's got that worried look he gets when he's not sure what he can do to fix it," she said. "He's hiding it, but I think he's scared."

"Well, you know that Adam was drugged, right?" Teela nodded. "Well, the drugs were magically enhanced in lots of different ways, and we haven't gotten that figured out yet. He's having reactions to the drugs that aren't altogether predictable."

"So why did you react that way when I said I'd had a feeling Adam was being hurt?"

Duncan pursed his lips. "Do you remember that manifestation of telepathy you had a few months back?"

"When the Sorceress's blood was affecting me?" she asked. "Yes."

"Well, I think this might be similar . . . . I think you had a premonition. You see, when you told me that you'd had the same feeling last night, what you didn't know was that the first time Daviona drained him was last night."

Teela looked stricken. "You mean, I sat there, playing cards with Queen Marlena, while Adam was being attacked, and I didn't know it?"

"Yes, dear, but neither did Marlena," Duncan said. "And I don't think I'd point that out to her."

"Of course not!" Teela exclaimed. Her eyes strayed forward and Duncan followed her gaze. Adam was leaning on his father, visibly drooping. "Where are we going?" Teela demanded. "How far into the castle is this guest room?"

A door opened ahead of them and Randor lifted Adam off his feet and carried him through. They could hear the prince protesting that he could walk, and Teela sighed.

"Why the sigh?"

"I wish I understood him," she said. "I wish I could help more than I do. He's so . . . kind . . . to everyone. It's not fair that this should happen to him."

"I know, Teela."

They entered the room and Duncan looked around curiously. He'd never been in any of the rooms of the castle that were of a more residential nature. This was startlingly homey. And . . . he looked in astonishment. There were windows. Randor had carried Adam across to a chair that sat beside one of them. The two moons shone graciously down on the countryside surrounding Grayskull, and Adam looked out, smiling.

"Why is he so tired?" Randor asked Duncan as he appraoched. "If she restored his energy to him?"

"I'm okay, Dad," Adam said. "I'm just a little tired, that's all. I'm not cold, and I don't feel like I'm going to fall asleep any second. And I can walk just fine." That last sentence was said with a shade of irritation.

"I know you can," his father said, sitting down in the chair opposite him. Marlena walked up and stood behind Adam's chair, resting her hands on his shoulders.

"This isn't at all what I expected," she said, smiling.

Duncan had to agree. The room was decorated in soft colors, a deep rose pink and a creamy white being the two most dominant. A deep fireplace held a roaring fire on one wall, and there were chairs facing it. A table stood near the opposite wall with chairs around it. Tapestries depicting scenes of home life from a different era hung on the walls, clearly done by expert hands.

"Me neither," Adam said. "This must come from a time when the castle was inhabited."

"Was it ever inhabited?" Teela asked.

"I'm sure it was," Adam replied with a wry grin. "I mean, do you think they built it as a ruin?"

Teela rolled her eyes and walked over to the window. "But who would want to live in a giant skull?"

"Not me," Adam said. Dorgan was looking inside all the rooms.

"Ah, there is an extra one that we can use as a space for medical exams and such, and they all have their own bathing facilities."

"Good," Randor said.

"But there are only three rooms," Teela said.

"I'll be sharing with Adam," Randor said matter-of-factly. Adam flushed slightly, but he smiled up at his father. Duncan stopped his hands from clenching into fists. Adam didn't need them all getting angry everytime he got the slightest bit upset.

"I think we'd better be going," Marlena said, but before Teela had time to voice the protest that was on her lips, dinner for six appeared on the table.

"I think you're invited for dinner, Mom," Adam said, a smothered laugh in his voice. He got up slowly. "You know what, I'm suddenly really hungry." Randor leapt to his feet and started toward the boy who held up his hand. "Dad, it's ten feet. I can walk!"

Randor drew back looking worried. "Are you sure?" he said. Adam rolled his eyes, which Duncan found most reassuring. He couldn't be too badly off if he could roll his eyes. Turning away, the prince went to the table and sat down. His parents immediately took the seats on either side of him, Randor at the head of the table. Teela sighed and sat opposite him, leaving Duncan and Dorgan to work out which of the two remaining seats they wanted. Dorgan took the foot to let Duncan sit next to his daughter.

"This looks very good," Marlena said. "But where did it come from? She doesn't have a cook or servants, does she?"

Adam shrugged. "I don't think so." He shook his head. "Does it matter?" he asked, digging in. "It tastes good!"

They all started eating in silence. Duncan wondered what the Sorceress was doing, and how she felt about having her daughter in her home and not being able to talk to her or spend time with her. He'd thought in the past that she had no real feelings for Teela, but it had become apparent that wasn't the case. It must be hard on her to know that her daughter was in her domain, yet still out of her reach.

"What do you want me to do about the situation with the Taurians, Randor?" Marlena asked abruptly.

"I hadn't made any specific plans about that, dear. I wasn't sure. I know you'll handle it perfectly."

Adam swallowed and looked up at his father. "You're really staying here? With me?"

"Yes, Adam, I am."

"I am, too," Teela announced suddenly.

"No, you're not!" Duncan replied in startlement

"I am," she said. "Adam needs a guard."

"In Grayskull?" Duncan exclaimed.

"Teela, the Sorceress only gave permission for two people to stay with Adam," Marlena said gently.

"Adam needs a guard," Teela repeated obstinately.

Adam smiled at her, which didn't help matters any from Duncan's point of view. "You can't stay, Teela. It's simply not an option."

"I'm staying." His daughter crossed her arms and glared at him.

"_I think I see a resemblance between her and a certain Man-at-Arms of my acquaintance,"_ the Sorceress said suddenly in his mind, and he blinked.

"_I see a resemblance to a certain Sorceress we both know all too well,"_ he replied to the Sorceress. To Teela, he said, "You can't stay, I'll need your help searching for Daviona."

She looked suddenly irresolute. "But . . ."

Adam's eyes widened. "Maybe she should stay!" the prince said.

"Daviona isn't interested in women, Adam," Duncan said reassuringly.

"But she's vicious!"

That put an end to Teela's resistance. "I can take care of myself," she declared loudly.

"Of course you can," Adam said. "But . . . I just don't want you to get hurt."

Teela gazed into his eyes for a long moment and then burst into tears. "You're just too nice!" she cried, then jumped up and ran out of the suite.

"Hell!" Duncan exclaimed and chased after her.

zzz

Adam stared after Teela and Duncan, stunned. "What did I say?"

"I'm not sure," his mother said.

"I am, I think," his father said. "She blames herself for your getting captured."

"It's not her fault," Adam said. "She fought like crazy, and we were on foot. Even if she'd listened when I said I thought something was wrong, all that would have meant is that I would have fought too. And maybe not been in perfect shape like Skeletor wanted." He tried to ignore the knowledge that he would have run off and left her alone with them to become He-Man the minute it became apparent that an attack was imminent.

"What do you mean 'in perfect shape'?" his father asked and Adam flushed slightly.

He looked down at his plate. "He wanted me without a mark, Trap Jaw said. For the auction, I guess." Adam's mother reached out and took his hand under the table. "That's why they used that weird thing that clamped my arms to my body, I guess. It meant that I couldn't fight back."

"I should probably be going," Marlena said with great reluctance, standing up. "I have a feeling that Duncan's going to take Teela out rather than bring her back in."

Adam stood up and gave his mother a hug. "I'll miss you," he said.

"You just be good," she replied, kissing him on the cheek. "I love you, Adam. I'll see you soon."

He hated to see her go, but she smiled at him as she went out the door.

zzz

Randor watched Adam's shoulders droop as Marlena left, and wondered if he wasn't being selfish to insist on staying himself rather than leaving his mother with him. Then Adam turned and threw himself at him, wrapping his arms around his waist, and he knew he'd made the right choice. For one thing, Marlena couldn't manhandle him if he needed it.

He held his son close, but after a few moments, he realized that the boy was trembling, so he guided him over to a sofa near the fire and sat down with him, beckoning to Dorgan. Adam looked down at himself, seeming troubled.

"My hands are shaking," he said. "Why are my hands shaking?" Dorgan walked over and took his temperature, then felt for his pulse. Adam glared at him. "Why are my hands shaking?"

"I'm not sure, Adam, but that's a common withdrawal reaction." He picked up a small device and pressed it to Adam's forehead. "This will check out your brain patterns and your nervous system." Randor watched nervously, holding Adam's shaking hand. "It's going to take some time, so you might as well talk to each other," Dorgan said after a few minutes.

Adam looked up. "Will moving change anything?"

"No, Adam, it's not that kind of a test. Just don't dislodge the device."

Randor and Adam sat in silence for a few moments, as Randor tried to think of something neutral to discuss. After a few moments, he gave up and asked the question that was in the forefront of his mind. "What happened at Snake Mountain, Adam?" his father asked.

Adam shrugged, leaning back against the sofa. "You said you saw images of the auction."

"But was that all that happened?"

"Mostly. I got taken to see Skeletor, and Evil-Lyn made sure I looked nice." He looked up, eyes full of annoyance. "She combed my hair!"

Randor could understand his outrage, though it seemed so paltry compared to what Daviona had done to him. "Anything else?"

"They kept freezing me, but that's it. I wasn't there for very long." He shuddered. "I really didn't like him taking my shirt and vest off though. That was seriously creepy."

"I would think so," Dorgan agreed, sitting down opposite them.

"I just wish it had all never happened," Adam said, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Now nothing will ever be the same again. I'll just be messed up forever."

"You'll be fine, Adam," Randor said.

Adam was silent for a minute. "I never want to have sex again." Randor shot a look at Dorgan, who looked as startled as he felt. "It was gross and disgusting and messy and I hated it. I hated liking it! I don't think I can do that again!"

Randor spoke tentatively into the silence that followed this pronouncement. "It wouldn't be the same with someone you liked, Adam."

"Never," Adam said firmly, and Randor bit his lip. Fighting him now would only make him dig his heels in.

"We'll see," Randor said.

"Never," Adam insisted.

Randor put his arm around Adam's shoulders. "We'll see," he repeated, just on the off chance he could offset any conditioning Adam might be giving himself right now.

zzz

Teela ran into a wall and leaned against it, crying as if her heart would break. She had dismissed his fears as groundless just before he was captured, and now he was worrying about her getting hurt. She wasn't worthy of that concern.

"Teela!" Her father caught up with her and pulled her away from the wall, wrapping his arms around her. "Teela, why did you run like that?"

"Why does he care?" she asked, sniffling. "It's my fault he was caught, it's my fault we didn't get away! I could have protected him, but I was too busy being certain he was wrong to pay any attention to him, and he was right."

"Teela, we all make mistakes."

"But not all of our mistakes lead to our best friend getting raped!" She pushed away from him, burying her face in her hands. "It's my fault. You'd be kicking yourself if the same thing had happened while you were with him, don't tell me you wouldn't!"

"Of course I would, but Teela, you can't allow it to eat at you like this. You are not to blame for what Daviona did to him."

"I'm to blame for his getting captured. Everything that happened afterward –"

"Is dreadful, but not your fault alone by any means. You told me what happened. Perhaps I should have sent others out for you and gone straight to Snake Mountain to try and rescue Adam. And what about sending the Crown Prince out with only one protector?"

"See, even you don't think I'm good enough."

"Teela, I'm not sure any _one _of us could have held them off. They had a specific goal, and they weren't interested in fighting, only in seizing Adam." He looked into her eyes very seriously. "Teela, that kind of grab can be almost impossible to stop because the goal is so simple."

Teela tried to take in what he was saying to her, but it didn't make sense. "Are you saying that if I'd stopped picking avornin and paid attention when Adam said there was something wrong, he still might have been taken?"

"I'm saying that if I'd been with you two, he still might have been taken." He put his hand on her shoulder. "You can't take all the burden on your shoulders, dearheart. It doesn't work that way."

An unexpected voice came from behind him, and Teela's eyes widened as a beautiful woman with a gold and green headress in the shape of a falcon's head approached from behind her father. He turned, looking utterly floored. "Teela, you should listen to your father. He knows what he's talking about."

"Sorceress?" Teela said in shock. "But I –"

"I, too, could claim blame for what happened," she said, walking out of the shadows. "If I had been watching, I could have warned him, or you. But I was focused elsewhere, and missed the moment." She pursed her lips. "While I believe you are right in thinking that you should have listened to Adam when he said he thought there was trouble, you are not solely responsible for what happened to him."

"Do you watch us often?" Teela asked curiously, a little startled that the fabled Sorceress of Grayskull was actually talking to her, face to face, for once. She had so many questions to ask.

The Sorceress merely tilted her head. "It's only natural that I would keep an eye on the Crown Prince of Eternia, my dear."

The queen's voice came out of the darkness behind Teela. "I'm glad to know that he has someone else keeping an eye on him." For a moment, Teela was angry with her for interrupting this, her first opportunity to speak with the Sorceress, but she bit her lip, shaking off that feeling.

"I must go," the Sorceress said abruptly, taking a step back.

"Oh, please, walk with me," Marlena said, walking forward swiftly and taking the other woman's arm. "I so seldom meet women of my own age. I'm sure you have a similar difficulty."

"I neither seek nor desire company," the Sorceress said, but with Marlena holding onto her, she could not easily retreat. Teela watched with fascination.

"Excellent line, very well delivered, but obviously rehearsed," the queen said, sounding sympathetic but stern. "Please talk with me. I want to know more about how you plan to help my son."

Teela could almost hear the Sorceress' will crumbling. "I understand your wish, Queen Marlena," she said gently. "But –"

"Please," Marlena asked with a pleading note in her voice. "I may not understand half of what you say, but I need to hear that he's in good hands before I go. The hands of someone who cares about him, not as a prince, not as the future king of Eternia, but as Adam."

There was a pause, and then she said, "Very well, your highness, I will walk with you to the door and we will discuss Adam's care."

Teela started to follow them, but her father held her back for a moment. "What are you –" she started, but he shook his head, putting a finger to his lips.

When they were out of earshot, he said, "They should be able to talk without the constraints of an audience."

Teela sighed, knowing he was right. "But I really want to talk to her. I have so many questions."

"I know, dearheart," he said. "I know."

zzz

Duncan wished he could tell Teela why the Sorceress persistently refused to answer her questions, but to tell her why would be to give her the answers the Sorceress was denying her. It was a paradox, and one he didn't see any way out of.

He hoped that Marlena, at least, would get the answers she sought. He didn't look forward to helping an angry queen run her kingdom. "What are we going to do to try and find Daviona?" Teela asked.

Duncan grimaced. "Frankly, I have no idea," he said.

Her eyes widened and she stared up at him. "You don't have a plan?"

"No, Teela, I don't." They walked in silence for a moment, then he shook his head. "Or rather, I do. I want to gather all the masters together, and Orko, and have a brainstorming session."

"It won't be right without Adam there," she said. "He's so good at refining people's ideas." She snorted. "And explaining them to Ram-Man."

He raised an eyebrow at her and she looked abashed. "We'll have to make do."

"What about He-Man?"

"We can't count on him just now. He's got . . ." Duncan cast about for an explanation. "Other obligations."

"Oh," Teela said, sounding disappointed.

"Adam's safe in Grayskull for the time being. We need to focus on Daviona."

"Right." Teela nodded with a determined look in her eyes that boded ill for Daviona if she found her first.

When they reached the drawbridge, they were just in time to see the Sorceress fly away. Marlena watched her go, an odd look in her eyes. "Did you get the answers you were looking for?" Duncan asked.

"I did," she said. "She's a good person, if a bit too reserved."

Duncan raised an eyebrow, more than mildly alarmed by the notion that Marlena was analyzing the Sorceress of Grayskull. He had never expected for those two women to meet, had truly never wanted that event to take place. After all, they were both very perceptive women, and Marlena had an eye for secrets that had been devastating to both their children at younger ages.

Knowing all of the people involved in the two secrets he was privy to with the Sorceress might give Marlena just the key she needed to connect all the clues and make sense of the whole, which could be disastrous. On the other hand, now that it was in motion and could not be stopped, it was also sort of morbidly fascinating. Like watching a ship go down in a storm.

Teela piloted the queen home, and Duncan flew home alone, which left him far too much time to consider the situation.

It was a good question. How were they going to locate Daviona? She had eluded detection for centuries from the sound of things, and he was willing to lay odds that she had some sort of fall back position prepared. He wasn't sure if this attempt to drain Adam from afar was a necessity or an attempt to pay them back for depriving her of him. She had stopped when it became clear that he was too weak to take the drain, and what that implied alarmed him. She wasn't interested in killing him. She could have done that tonight, well before they'd reached Grayskull, and they couldn't have stopped her. He shook his head. There was only one real conclusion that made sense, knowing her as he did after watching the recordings of her with Adam. She wanted him back.

She wasn't going to get him, but he was certain that she wanted him.


	15. Castle Grayskull

**Chapter 15 – Castle Grayskull**

Daviona stewed. Adam was too weak to be drained, and if she killed him she'd be worse off than she was now. She had been forced to draw back, despite the fact that the amount of power she had collected from him the night before was barely half of what she'd been able to pull from him when they had lain together. And it had not been without its cost to her.

It was the distance. If he was with her, it wouldn't have harmed him in the slightest. Any harm that came to his son as a result of this was Randor's fault.

This situation was infuriating. She wanted Adam back, not only as a toy, though she had played with him a great deal, but as a power source. He would enable her to achieve so much, and he was quite a delightful plaything. Such stamina.

She had to find another source of energy, at least temporarily. Pulling from Adam was necessary, and would continue, but she was used to having energy flowing into her from many sources. And she disliked her current lack of companionship. Perhaps she would have to brave the outside world after all. If she could find herself some young man, she could bring him here, and he would provide her with what she needed.

Yes, that was it. A young man with all the power that raging hormones and lust could provide. An ideal prize.

* * *

Adam sat still while Dorgan removed the medical device from his forehead. The healer sat down at the end of the table to read its information while Adam returned his attention to the game of chess he was playing with his father. It actually looked like he might win. The options his father had for moves weren't great.

It had been years since he'd played his father at chess, but he'd played both Roboto and Man-E-Robot a few times since then. He thought his game had improved at least a little.

His father made a move he hadn't expected him to see, and Adam fell to pondering his options based on that choice.

While he was still considering, Dorgan looked up. "Well, it appears that there are some minor fluctuations in your neural pathways, but that's to be expected with drugs still in your system. All in all, you look pretty normal up there."

Adam blinked and looked up. "Really? But then why are my hands shaking?"

"As I said, that's a typical withdrawal symptom. It's nothing to worry about."

The prince nodded and tried again to focus on his game, but he couldn't wrap his mind around chess. He got up and crossed to the window, leaning against the cold stone of the frame. The castle cast a pair of broad shadows across the nighttime landscape, one darker than the other, as the moons began to set. "It's getting late," he said

"It is." His father had come up beside him and sat down in the chair. "Are you tired?"

"I've slept so much over the past few days that I can't stand the idea of sleeping now. Practically all I did at Davi's was sleep, bathe, and have sex." He glanced at his father's face. "I know I didn't sleep all the time when I got home, but I don't really remember much for those first few days."

"You did sleep a lot," Randor said.

Adam nodded, looking back out the window. "Yesterday all I did was have fits of weirdness and then sleep them off, and today I slept almost all day."

"I know, Adam, but you do need your rest."

"I think my normal sleep schedule's out the window," Adam said. "I'm a little tired, but I'm not ready to sleep."

"All right," Randor said. "I won't push you."

Adam sighed and smiled at his father. "Thanks." They stayed like that for awhile, Dorgan puttering in the background.

Abruptly, Dorgan said, "Well, if you two don't mind, I will go to bed now. Don't worry about waking me. I'm a healer, I can sleep through the clatter of falling bedpans and the curses of the hapless medics who have to pick up the mess."

He went through into the bedroom he had chosen and shut the door. Adam chuckled. "Has he always been like that?"

"As long as I remember him," his father said.

Adam tilted his head curiously. "Did he seem old when you were a boy?"

"No, he was a young man when I was little. But even then he was considered to be the genius of my father's medical staff." His father paused, seeming lost in thought, and Adam wondered what he was thinking about. "I suppose his attitude has changed a bit since then, actually, come to think on it. He was always irritable, I think now that it comes of being an intelligent man who dislikes being questioned by fools. But he didn't have the air of the patriarch then that he does now."

Adam grinned. "'Air of the patriarch . . .' I like that. It describes him perfectly."

"That started to develop as his family started to grow up. Having seven children will do that to a man, I suppose." Adam's father laughed. "I saw him less often for awhile at that point, because my father and I had separate commands, but I remember how he started acting after he became a grandfather. It was as if he'd suddenly become everyone's crotchety old grandfather, despite the fact that he was barely old enough to be my father."

"He didn't do that to your father did he?" Adam couldn't imagine. He'd never met his grandfather, but he loomed as big as legend in his mind.

"No, worse," Randor said. Adam raised his eyebrow. "He lorded his grandchildren over him. Hathrin had twins, and I hadn't even married yet. I'd met your mother, but . . ." His father shook his head. "Her mother wasn't thrilled with the idea of a soldier for her girl."

"Really?" Adam couldn't imagine anyone disapproving of his father.

"She called me 'Marlena's Ruffian' to the end," he said, grinning at the memory. He sobered again. "Unfortunately, your grandfather didn't live to see me married, much less a father. It's one of my biggest regrets."

Adam sighed and looked out the window again. The shadows had grown longer. "So much changes, but so many things stay the same," he said.

"That's very philosophical," his father replied.

"I'm not the same as I was a week ago," Adam said, shrugging. "And I never will be. I look the same, barring the brand, but I'm different inside."

"Dorgan says that once it's healed, he should be able to remove the brand."

Adam shrugged. "I'm not sure it makes that much of a difference. She left her mark on me anyway." He grimaced. "I don't mean to sound like I'm whining."

"I don't think you're whining, Adam," his father said, reaching out to pat his leg. "In fact, you seem amazingly calm."

Biting his lip, Adam said, "Don't worry, it probably won't last." His father stood and put his arm around his shoulder, squeezing. Adam turned into him and hugged him tightly.

"It will be all right again, Adam. No, it won't be the same as it was, but it will be all right."

Adam wanted to believe him, but it was hard to imagine things being all right again now. Not after all that had happened. "I love you, Dad," he said.

"I love you, too, Adam."

They stood hugging for a long moment, then Adam broke away. "So, shall I finish beating you at chess and then we can go to bed?"

"You can certainly try." his father said, grinning down at him. Adam smiled and they went back to the table.

* * *

They didn't go to bed until nearly dawn, and Randor wasn't at all certain he'd be able to sleep in the sunlight. Adam, of course, went straight to sleep. The king lay awake for some time, contemplating the evening he'd spent with his son. They had talked about random subjects, avoiding the one that was most recent and uncomfortable. He had begun to realize that he no longer really knew the boy who was his son.

He still didn't understand Adam's tendency to disappear during battles. He didn't come across as a coward, in fact he'd stayed and fought – and fought reasonably well – in some pretty sticky situations. But on other occasions, he simply vanished.

Randor had suspicions that there was more to that than met the eye, but he didn't understand why his son wouldn't explain himself. Right now, however, didn't seem to be the time to ask.

After about an hour of trying unsuccessfully to sleep, Randor gave up. He sat up and looked down at Adam, who was sprawled in that ungainly teenaged fashion that never looked comfortable to adults. His hands were still shaking mildly. Another surge of anger threatened to overwhelm Randor's calm, but he suppressed it.

He had to leave the search for Daviona in Duncan's capable hands. He had chosen his task, and he had a feeling his man-at-arms was just as pleased that he hadn't elected to go back out in the field on search. Nevertheless, as the king looked down at his son, he felt somewhat guilty that he wasn't out prosecuting the search for his tormentor instead of leaving it to others.

Reaching out, he gently touched Adam's forehead, checking for either fever or cold. All seemed well, but how could he be certain? How could they know what surprises Daviona's drugs had planted in his body, either deliberate or incidental? Even Dorgan was worried. Randor didn't think anyone besides Dorgan was fooled by his demeanor. Adam might be, but it was hard to know how much he was concealing.

How anyone could ever have mistaken this boy for weak, Randor wasn't sure anymore, even though he had been one of that group. He had stood there, in the window, calmly discussing how his life would never be the same, and then gone on to trounce his father at chess. It was obvious he was suffering, both physically and emotionally, but Randor marveled at how well he was holding up nevertheless.

Adam shifted under his hand, and Randor drew it away so as not to wake him, though in truth, it seemed unlikely that something so minor would wake him. He was dead to the world.

Randor shivered at the hideousness of that thought. How close had they come last night? Why had Daviona stopped? He found the obvious conclusion unpalatable. She wasn't done with Adam yet. _Yes, she is!_ Randor ground his teeth, wishing he could split himself in half and go wrest vengeance from that vile harpy's body in addition to taking care of Adam. He found himself wondering how often Marlena had chafed at home under the restraint of her position.

He leaned back against the headboard. He was not used to inaction, and though he was hardly doing nothing, it felt like inaction. He sighed. The pink glow of false dawn was gradually brightening to the true light of day. Randor started to drift, and he welcomed the feeling, hoping it was the beginnings of sleep.

Gradually, though, he became aware that Adam was making noises beside him. The king was sufficiently far gone, however, that he was unable to respond. He was caught in that state between waking and sleeping where the body refuses to answer the mind's call.

Then Adam lashed out with his arms and legs, shoving Randor off the side of the bed and to the floor. The stupor broken, he stood up to see his son flailing about on the bed almost as if struggling with an invisible opponent. "Daddy!" he cried. "Daddy!

"Adam!" he called, leaning over him, "Adam, you're dreaming!" He reached down to try and restrain him, fearful that the boy would hurt himself. A blow to the jaw brought stars to his eyes, but he knelt on the side of the bed and caught Adam's arms firmly. "Adam! Wake up!"

"Daddy!" Adam struggled against the hands that held him to the bed. "Daddy!"

"Adam!" He wasn't waking up, and Randor wasn't sure what to do. He didn't have control of Adam's legs, and the boy was bucking to try and free himself.

"DADDY!"

"I'm here!" Randor cried. When Adam nearly threw him off, Randor wrapped his arms around him and lay across the top of him, using his weight to hold him down. Adam continued to thrash beneath him for ages, continuing to cry out for 'daddy.'

Randor just kept reassuring him that Daddy was there and that he was dreaming, trying to get him to wake up. Finally, Adam quieted again, laying still, After a few moments, he said, "Daddy?" in a very tentative voice. His eyes were open and he appeared to be looking up at his father.

"It's me, Adam," Randor said, trying to meet Adam's eyes. He shifted so that he was no longer holding Adam's arms. Gently, he stroked Adam's hair off forehead. "Are you awake?"

"No."

Randor blinked in astonishment. He realized abruptly that while the boy's eyes were open, they were not focused on anything. Recovering his wits, he said, "Well, sleep then, but you're safe with . . . with Daddy. Daddy's here and he loves you."

"Okay." Adam breathed in deeply and let out a sigh, his eyes closing. He cuddled close to his father, and Randor rolled to the side, shifting Adam so that he was leaning against him. The king was panting slightly after his exertions. He was sweating and his adrenaline was so high now that he wasn't going to get to sleep, not especially with the sun above the horizon. He gazed down at his son, watching him sleep. His face was sweaty, too, unsurprisingly.

There was a quiet knock at the door, and, in a soft voice, Randor called, "Come."

The door opened and Randor, who had been expecting Dorgan, nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the Sorceress. He knew he should rise to meet a lady of her standing, that he should certainly not greet her in rumpled nightclothes, however, circustances were somewhat beyond his control.

"Good morning, king of Eternia," she said. "Do not trouble yourself," she added as he tried to think of how to rescue the situation gracefully. "May I sit?"

"Please do," he said, and she chose a stool that could be pulled up close to the bed. He imagined that her wings must make sitting on an ordinary chair somewhat difficult.

"How is he this morning?" she asked looking down at Adam with worry evident in her eyes.

"He's only been asleep a few hours. We were up until dawn."

"Ah."

There was a moment of silence, and Randor wasn't sure what to say. What, after all, could a man say to a mysterious woman of immense magical power who visited him in the early morning while he was still in bed? "Thank you for saving my son."

"He would not have died," she said. "Not of the draining at any rate. She stopped in time. Though it would have taken a long time for him to recover."

"Nevertheless, it left him weakened, and he might not have easily withstood an illness in that condition."

"True." Silence fell again, and Randor wondered what she had come for. His stomach was beginning to make anxious plaints for breakfast when she suddenly waved her staff and a plate of meat pies appeared at his elbow with a cup of chai. They smelled heavenly, but their scent didn't even rouse Adam. Randor picked on up and bit into it. Sausage and cheese. He felt awkward eating with her there, but she had provided the food.

"Thank you," he said.

"It is nothing." She looked out the window. Finally, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, turning back towards him. "I have searched for Daviona, but she has concealed herself well. She must have developed and honed her skills with great care and discretion to have operated while the Elders were still in power."

"Yes," Randor agreed. "You've done so much just allowing us to stay here and giving him the energy yesterday, but . . ." He hated to ask, but Adam was in need. "Is there anything else you can do to help my son?"

"I have been giving that some thought." She gazed down at Adam's face with a mix of affection and worry, drawing Randor's attention there, too. Adam looked sweetly innocent. "I will do whatever I can to restore him to full health." She raised an eyebrow. "It seems very wrong to see him lying there so still. He's usually so active."

Randor nodded agreement. "You speak as if you know him well," he observed curiously. "How often has he been here?"

"A few times with Man-at-Arms. But I have watched him, as I watch all of Eternia. And as crown prince, he does command a greater share of my attention."

"I see," Randor said. He wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that this woman, an acknowledged representative of the Elders, had been watching his son by, presumably, magical means. On the other hand if her clear fondness for Adam led her to be more zealous on his behalf than she might have been otherwise, he would not argue. He glanced back down at his son, and without considering it, he said, "I love him very much."

She rose. "I will return later in the day. What I must do I should do while he is awake."

"Of course."

She left as suddenly as she had come, but as he turned to watch the door close, he saw that she had left something behind. A small pile of novels sat on the beside table. Reaching out, he picked one up and started reading.

* * *

Teela woke early, ready to help her father work out a plan to find that evil woman and prevent her from doing harm to anyone else. As soon as she had finished her morning ablutions, she received a call on her comlink that put paid to that notion, however.

"Masters, meet in the north hangar," her father's voice said. "On the double."

She ran downstairs as soon as she was dressed to find her father looking grim. Her heart sank as she saw that Stratos and Buzz Off were strapping on fire-fighting equipment. That wasn't a good sign. "We need to get moving!" Man-at-Arms called as the others ran up. "Skeletor's minions are attacking the village of Daransha. I'll brief you as we go."

Teela checked her weapons and made sure her comlink was tucked securely in her ear, then climbed aboard a sky sled and took off. _What incredibly bad timing!_ she thought irritably.

Her father started speaking and she listened closely while paying attention to her piloting. "Reports say Whiplash and Tu-Badd are demolishing the town from one end to the other, tearing things down and setting them ablaze. Mekanek, Teela, I want you two to focus on evacuation and calming the villagers."

"Right," Teela said.

"Stratos, Buzz-Off, take that equipment and put it to use. Ram-Man, Manny, you're with me."

Though frustrated not to be engaging directly in battle, Teela started working with the village's headman as soon as they landed, trying to locate the people who were still in buildings and get them out before the fires reached that far.

Lost in the urgency of finding people who were trapped or simply too terrified to flee, Teela wondered where on Eternia He-Man was.

* * *

Randor stood slowly, stretching. Adam was still asleep in bed, but it hadn't even been four hours since he'd gone to sleep. Dorgan had been in to check on the boy and reported him well enough. His temperature was normal, the shaking in his hands had subsided, and he was sleeping deeply.

Reassured, Randor had felt it was safe to get up and exercise his stiff joints and muscles. His right knee was particularly painful when he didn't use it enough. Arching his back, keeping one ear out for any worrisome noises from Adam, Randor walked to the window and gazed out.

The countryside seemed peaceful, but he caught a glimpse of something unexpected. Something that was where it shouldn't be. _Panthor? _he thought, growing alarmed. Then the brilliant green magical shield appeared around the castle, sure evidence of an assault. He turned, sparing a glance at Adam who slept on, unaware.

Seizing up his armor, he grabbed the door and opened it. "Dorgan!" he hissed.

The healer came to the door. His eyes grew wide when he saw that the king was arming himself. "What is it?"

"Skeletor is here – he's attacking the castle. Stay with Adam."

"Of course, your highness," Dorgan said.

His breastplate and leg armor in place, Randor strapped on his sword belt. "I'll return as soon as I may. Should all else fail, see that Adam doesn't fall into Skeletor's hands, whatever the cost."

The healer nodded once, sharply, then Randor strode from the suite and down the hall. The way was dark, but he recalled the passages they had gone down. When he came to a turning, however, the passage ahead lit up. Pausing, he glanced to his left, the path they had followed the previous evening, then forward.

_Elders, let this be right,_ he pleaded internally, following the lit path.

He could hear the crashing of power on the shields that protected the castle, and then on the walls of the castle itself. Randor started running, the path lighting itself ahead of him until, abruptly, he saw a growing rectangle of daylight ahead. Before he could get there, the light was occluded by a narrow shadow.

Three bounding strides and he could see Skeletor as he stepped from wood to stone. The skull-faced menace froze, seeing him. Randor kept going, not slacking his pace in the slightest. The king ducked slightly, ramming Skeletor in the midsection with his shoulder, throwing him sideways into the abyss.

Randor looked up and yelled, "I don't know how to close this thing!"

At that moment the drawbridge slammed up again, and Randor stumbled backwards.

* * *

Duncan couldn't understand it. Whiplash and Tu-Badd put up a token resistance, but then they fled, leaving the masters with the task of controlling the fire and saving what they could of the village. He aimed a nozzle and blasted fire-fighting foam into a house.

Suddenly, a call came into his mind from the Sorceress. _"Castle Grayskull is under attack." _Duncan froze. _Randor? Adam!_ He looked around hastily. The fires were nearly out, the villagers were gathered together aroud the headman.

"Mek!" he called. "Call the palace and get a squad of soldiers out here." The long-necked master immediately lifted his comlink to his lips and started giving the orders. "Stratos, give your equipment to a villager and let them finish the fires. This was a diversion! Grayskull is under attack!"

Teela was on her sky sled and away before he even finish talking. Duncan ran to his and took off, not wanting her to wind up alone facing Skeletor and whoever else he might have brought along. He could hear the others taking off around him.

It seemed to take forever, and the Sorceress didn't contact him again. Adam's sword was currently tucked under Duncan's bed at the palace, so He-Man wouldn't be helping on this venture, even if Adam were up to it.

Finally, Teela reported back. "I don't see anyone outside the castle besides Panthor!" she said. Duncan gave the machine a little more speed. Where Panthor went, so did Skeletor. If she was alone outside the castle . . . he couldn't make the sky sled go fast enough.

Teela had already landed, but she hadn't gone far when he touched down. She had her staff out and was holding Panthor off. The great purple cat's tail was lashing wildly.

Duncan's eyes were caught, however, but something he saw beyond Panthor. A hand. A blue clawed hand, to be specific, reaching up and clutching at the edge of the abyss. Skeletor dragged himself up as Panthor growled and lunged at Teela to make her fall back. When the self-proclaimed 'overlord of evil' saw the gathered masters, his eyes grew bright with crimson fire.

He leapt on Panthor's back, and Duncan dodged the blast of energy he shot at him as they bounded away.

Duncan rolled to his feet and called, "Make sure there's no one else lurking!"

Stratos flew down into the abyss as the others spread out to check the terrain.

A moment later the drawbridge started to lower. Duncan walked to the end, expecting the Sorceress, half-expecting He-Man, though he knew it wasn't possible. Instead he was met by Randor, who was looking particularly pleased with himself.

"Where's Adam?" Teela demanded breathlessly as she ran up.

"In his room," Randor said, the pleasure in his eyes dimming. "I'd better go check on him."

Duncan started to go with them, but then he recalled the masters, who would likely try to follow, with potentially disastrous results. Turning, he said, "Keep watch out here for now, if you would."

They all nodded, eyes focused on the castle. Then Mekanek grimaced and turned around. As Duncan walked inside, he heard the long-necked master calling to the others. "Hey, guys! I don't think the castle's going to do anything!"

He followed Randor and Teela along a different path than the one they'd used the previous evening. Just as he reached an intersection, the way to his right lit up, though Teela and Randor were ahead, following another lighted path. _"Duncan, I would speak with you."_

Nodding, he turned aside and in a few steps came face to face with the Sorceress. She looked weak and drained. "What happened?"

"Skeletor would have gotten inside the castle were it not for Randor's quick thinking."

"Did you send for him?"

"No." She shook her head. "And I did not give him a path. The castle, however, did."

"The castle is responding to Teela _and _to Randor? Just how smart is this . . . place, anyway?" He glanced around at the walls.

She looked vaguely disturbed as she echoed his look. "No one knows."

"Great. So did Skeletor actually get the drawbridge open?"

"He did. But as he reached the castle proper, Randor came running up." There was a hint of a smile on her lips as she continued. "Skeletor froze on the threshold and Randor rammed his shoulder into him and knocked him into the abyss."

"And that's it?"

"Skeletor lost control of the spell with which he had pierced the shields and forced the drawbridge down when he fell, losing much of the power involved as well. He caught himself by magic, but he had to climb out physically."

Duncan snorted. "You know he's going to be impossible to live with for awhile, don't you?"

"Who, Randor or Skeletor?"

"Both, I'd imagine, but I was referring to Randor."

"You had best go see your prince. They will wonder what became of you."

Duncan nodded, and looked back over his shoulder. When he turned back, she was gone.


	16. New Directions

**Chapter 16 – New Directions**

Teela followed the king. She had a little trouble keeping up with his long strides, but she managed. When they finally reached the room, she rushed past Randor into the main room, looking around for Adam.

He was nowhere to be seen. "Where is he?"

"With any luck, he's still asleep," the king said. "Hush, now." He walked across to a door and opened it quietly, peering in. Dorgan stood there, brandishing a wickedly sharp scalpel. Teela's eyes widened.

"It's me, Dorgan," the king said, grinning, and the healer lowered the makeshift weapon.

"Good. He's sleeping quietly now, but he started calling for you a little bit ago, and I didn't know what to do exactly. I just put an arm around him and he eventually calmed."

Teela followed him in and looked down. Adam was lying in bed, his eyes closed, looking utterly sweet and angelic. Soft clankings sounded to her right and she looked to see that the king was hastily, though quietly, removing his armor.

She wished that there was something she could do, but there wasn't. She had to just watch while the king sat down on the bed with Adam, gathering him up. Adam, even in his sleep, cuddled up against his father. Thinking back, she remembered him behaving in much the same way with his father when they'd gone on 'camping trips' in the little copse of trees at the edge of the palace grounds when they were really little.

The king brushed Adam's hair back, so that it wasn't resting on his forehead and looked down at him with a fond expression. "He was calling for me?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm not sure, but it's possible that your coming upon him at that moment, when he was still very strongly under the influence of that conditioning drug, has had some effect. He seems most comfortable with you, turns to you in times of crisis . . ."

Teela thought that was odd. Adam and his father had gotten so distant over the past few years. She'd asked her dad about it, but he'd said that fathers and sons often drifted apart for awhile when the boy neared maturity. That it was normal, but that there was no telling when it would end.

"How long is it likely to last?" Adam's father asked.

"That's unpredictable," Dorgan replied. "We did little to discourage it. You were one of his primary caregivers during those first few days, and you've been with him steadily since. He'll probably remain somewhat dependent on you for awhile, but it's impossible to predict how long."

"I see," Randor said, looking down at his son. Teela watched with fascination.

"Why is he asleep so late?" she asked. Both men turned and stared at her as if they hadn't yet noticed that she was there.

After a moment, the king seemed to find his voice again. "We didn't get to bed until quite late last night," he said. He looked down again at Adam, and Teela could see clearly how much he cared for his son. She'd never seen the king's emotions so naked on his face before.

She looked around for her father, suddenly wanting him to be near, not entirely certain why, but he wasn't there. "That's odd," she murmured.

"What is?" the king asked, sounding alarmed.

"My father," she said. "I thought he was right behind us."

His worry faded. "Oh. I did, too. Perhaps the Sorceress waylaid him."

Teela's brows knit in frustration. She had so many questions to ask. This was the second time she'd been inside Grayskull in twenty-four hours, and she probably wouldn't even see the Sorceress. It had been odd the night before, when she'd shown up so suddenly. Months ago, she'd saved Teela's life, and now she had tried to ease the burden of guilt Teela felt over letting Adam get captured. It was clear that she had an interest, so why wouldn't she stay around long enough to answer a few simple questions?

Teela sighed and walked across the room to look out the window. Across the abyss, she could see Ram-Man and Man-E-Faces talking, no doubt about fishing. The door to the suite opened and her father walked into the room a moment later.

"Did she say anything of import?" the king asked instantly before Man-at-Arms could even speak.

"Well, she told me that you saved Grayskull single-handedly," Teela's father said, raising an eyebrow at the king.

Randor shook his head vehemently. "No! I meant about Adam."

"No," he replied. "We just talked about the castle and your actions today." Her father looked down at the prince. "Why's he asleep?"

"We didn't go to bed till dawn," Randor said. "He said he'd had enough sleep for awhile."

"I can understand that."

Teela walked over and stood next to her father at the foot of the bed, looking down at the king and his son. He put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned in, enjoying the closeness. Abruptly, Adam yawned and stretched, narrowly missing hitting his father's chin. He sat up blinking and turned to the side of the bed, getting up. Without speaking, he walked across the room and into the bathing chamber.

"That was odd," Teela said.

"Quiet, girl," Dorgan whispered. "I think he's sleepwalking."

After a few minutes and the sound of running water, Adam came back out. He walked to a chair near the windows and sat. Bending down, he picked up an imaginary something on the floor. A few seconds later, it became clear that it was a shoe, for he started putting it on his foot.

"Dorgan?" the king asked in a strangled voice.

The healer waved at him in a vaguely reassuring gesture and walked over to Adam. Putting his arm around the boy's shoulders, he spoke very quietly, in a gentle, soothing tone. "Adam, it's not time to be awake yet." Adam paused in his movements and Dorgan pressed his advantage. "Let's get you back to bed."

Teela thought it was creepy. Adam sat there, his eyes open, staring in the general direction of Dorgan's face, but there was no awareness in those blue orbs. After a few seconds, he said, "Okay." Then he stood up and allowed Dorgan to walk him back to his bed.

Once the prince was tucked in, Dorgan said, "I'll be back in a moment."

Immediately upon lying down, Adam snuggled up against his father, rolling over on his side and pillowing his head on his father's legs. Randor rested his hand on his son's head, gazing worriedly down at him. "I wish I knew what to do," he said, giving her father a helpless look.

Teela looked up at her father, expecting him to have some wise suggestion, but he shook his head, his eyes focused on the prince's face. "I know. It's impossibly frustrating." She blinked and looked over at Adam. If her father didn't have some idea, some guidance to impart, things must be really desperately serious.

* * *

Daviona rose late and had a leisurely breakfast that she summoned from a pub near the center of Eternos. They had excellent pastries.

She was going to have to go out soon and gather some necessities. Chemicals, some equipment that hadn't been available yet when she abandoned this dwelling two hundred years before, and a lusty young man to gather energy from.

Before she did that, though, she settled into a chair and focused on reaching out for Prince Adam. Just to touch, not to take. She needed to be sure he was still alive and well. The questing tendril of power stretched out . . . not toward the palace. _Where have they taken him?_

There was a flash of power and pain, causing her to withdraw instantly. Her head was pounding and her vision blurred. She wouldn't be going out today, that was for certain. _Who was that?_ The wizard Randor had didn't have that amount of power. Daviona's heart was racing. If she'd lingered, that power wouldn't simply have slapped her, it would have seized on her reaching tendril of energy and used it as a homing beacon to locate her.

Fury surged through her. They had blocked her path to Adam for now, but not forever. They couldn't keep him mewed up behind magical shields for the rest of his life.

And in the meantime, there were always young men with wandering feet. No one would notice if a few of them went . . . missing. Daviona licked her lips avariciously.

Eventually they would relax their guard . . . and Adam would be ripe for the taking.

* * *

"_Duncan, Daviona just attempted to reach Adam again."_ The Sorceress' words cut through him like a knife. Randor was speaking, but he waved him silent._ "I do not know what her intent was, but the shields stopped her from getting through."_

"_So she knows where he is?"_

"_I do not think so. She and I have never clashed, and her touch has not come near Grayskull before. She will not recognize us, but should I encounter her again, I will know her. However, I now have a general region for you to begin searching."_

Duncan's heartbeat increased with excitement. _"Where?"_

"_Near the southern city of Tronak." _He had a brief, bird's eye view of the area around that city. There was a vague glowing line in a rough circle. _"It came from somewhere within that area."_ Abruptly, he could tell that she was gone. He opened his eyes, which he hadn't noticed closing.

"What is it, Duncan?" Randor asked urgently.

"Daviona. She was reaching out for Adam. The Sorceress couldn't tell what she had planned, but the castle's shield deflected her."

He became aware suddenly of an impending explosion beside him and tightened his arm around Teela's shoulders. She bit her lip and Duncan returned his attention to the king, who looked stricken.

"She tried again? So soon?" He looked down at Adam, who was sleeping almost alarmingly deeply. Aside from that brief episode of sleepwalking, he hadn't really stirred since they'd arrived.

"We don't know that she was going to try to drain him, Randor. It may simply have been . . ." He shook his head. "I don't know. But the Sorceress has managed to narrow her location down to a region."

"That's marvelous."

"So we'd better go," Duncan said, glancing down at Teela, whose face creased with disappointment. "Tell Adam we're sorry we missed him."

As he started to leave, Randor called out to him. "Duncan!" He stopped sharply, and Teela nearly ran into him. Turning, he raised an eyebrow. "What did she say?" Randor demanded.

"Oh." Duncan cleared his throat, a little embarrassed. Rocking back on his heels, he said, "I'm sorry. The attempted attack came from the region around Tronak."

"How big a region?" Randor asked.

"Several hundred square miles," Duncan replied.

"So what's the rush? You aren't going to cover that in a day, and Adam will be disappointed if he misses seeing you."

Duncan grimaced. That was certainly the truth. "Well, I had called a meeting of the masters for this morning to brainstorm ideas for how to start searching, and I should really go see how bad the damage is in Daransha."

"Daransha?" Randor exclaimed, and Duncan belatedly realized that he hadn't told the king about that incident. "What happened in Daransha?"

"It was attacked by Whiplash and Tu-Badd. I suspect now that it was a diversion."

"You didn't leave while it was still under attack, did you?"

"No, we left the villagers to put out the fires and I had Mekanek send a couple squads of the guard to help with the clean up."

Randor stared at him. "Duncan, have someone call the guard and see how they're faring, and then sit down and stay awhile."

Duncan was about to turn and go down to the drawbridge to follow his king's command when he heard an ear piercing whistle and whirled. Teela stood by the window, leaning out, looking toward the masters. Adam, still asleep, did not so much as stir.

She was drawing in breath to shout when Mekanek's head popped up in front of her. "You called, fair lady?" he said.

Taking a startled step back, she said, "Um, yeah. I didn't think you could do this."

"Well, here I am!" Mek said, grinning. "You had something you needed?"

"Yes, I –" she started, but his neck arced up suddenly, sending his head over the top of her. She moved sideways as Mekanek looked around the room.

"Hey, the inside of Grayskull," he said musingly as he glanced from side to side. "Wow, this is . . . depressingly mundane." Duncan rolled his eyes. Trust Mekanek to deflate the drama of any moment.

"It's a bedroom, Mekanek," Randor said, his eyes crinkling. _On the other hand, anything that makes Randor smile at a time like this is all right by me._

"Yeah, and it's surprisingly mundane." His head approached the bed. "How's the kid?" he asked, looking down at the prince with an affectionate grin.

"He's as well as can be expected," Randor replied, his expression sobering as he, too, looked at Adam.

As if aware of their scrutiny, the boy's eyes flicked open, but this time he looked as if he were actually waking up. "Mek?" he said muzzily.

"Heya Adam," Mekanek said. "You look like hell." He wasn't wrong. Adam looked worn and weary, and more than a little ill. Nevertheless, Randor glared at Mekanek and started to shake his head, but his son's reaction stopped him from chastising the master.

Adam grinned slightly, eyes crinkling in a way that made Duncan think of his father. "Thanks," the boy said wryly. "I feel like hell."

"Well, you know we're all thinking about you, right?" Mek said. "All pulling for you."

"Thanks," Adam said, smiling. His energy seemed to escape him, his eyes drooping closed, and he drifted off again.

Mekanek drew back a bit, his mouth compressed into an angry line. "That woman . . ." he started, his voice trailing off in an acrimonious mutter.

"Yes, Mekanek, I know," the king said, his eyes reflecting a cold rage. There was a moment of seething silence.

"Right." Mekanek said, breaking the silence. He brightened and looked back toward Teela. "I was summoned. What did you need?"

Duncan stepped forward. "Would you go back outside and call the guard at Daransha and find out how they're doing?"

"Your wish is my command," he said, nodding. "Is there anything else you want me to do while I'm out there?"

"Actually, see if anyone knows the area around Tronak well," Randor said suddenly.

Mek paused briefly, clearly wondering about the significance of the order, then said, "Of course, my liege. I will return in a few moments."

His head withdrew and Adam blinked again. "Was Mekanek just here?" he asked. "Or did I dream that?"

"Yes, son, Mekanek was here."

"How did he get inside?" the prince asked, sitting up and yawning. When his eyes opened after his stretch, he saw Teela and Duncan and he nearly jumped out of his skin. "What – um – good morning!"

"Actually, it's closer to afternoon," Teela said helpfully. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, though the pallor of his skin belied the statement. "I'm just a little surprised to see you guys."

Teela grabbed a chair and pulled it over to the bed, sitting down. "Skeletor attacked Grayskull."

"Skeletor did what?" Adam exclaimed, alarm lighting up his features. He shot a glance at Duncan who kept his face carefully neutral.

"He attacked Grayskull. I guess your father ran him off."

"He did?" The incredulity in his voice wasn't exactly complimentary, but to Randor's credit, he didn't seem to take offense.

"Yes," Duncan affirmed. "According to the Sorceress, Skeletor managed to open the drawbridge, and your father knocked him off into the abyss. He'd used up all his energy in the process of opening Grayskull, so he barely managed to catch himself. The masters showed up just in time to watch him flee."

Adam grinned and looked over his shoulder. "Way to go, Dad," he said, beaming at him.

Randor looked embarrassed. "It wasn't anything impressive." He stood up. "I need to take a shower." Adam looked mildly alarmed as his father started to move away. "I'll be back in twenty minutes," the king said reassuringly. Adam nodded, biting his lip. "Duncan, you find out from Mek if anyone knows Tronak."

Duncan nodded, then pulled a chair up to the bed as Randor went into the bathing chamber. Adam looked uneasy. He had a handful of the bedcovers and was twisting it with nervous hands. "He's okay, isn't he?" the prince asked as soon as the bathing door shut. He looked earnestly at Duncan. "He's not hurt?"

"He's fine," Dorgan said, coming in with a tray of food. He placed it across Adam's lap and sat down on the bed. "Don't worry. Eat up. You haven't had any food since last night."

"Um . . . Dorgan?" Adam had his hands clenched in the covers under the tray now. "I think I need one of those pills."

"Look in the little cup," Dorgan said, pointing. "It's about time again."

Adam looked down at his tray and took the pill, then looked at the food. "I'm not sure –"

"Eat, or I'll pour glop into you."

The prince looked startled, then annoyed. "There's no need for threats," he muttered, and started eating.

Teela looked longingly at the food, and Duncan realized that she had likely missed breakfast. "I don't suppose there's anything else to eat, Dorgan?" he asked.

"I just have – oh." He walked around behind them and Duncan turned to follow his movements. Another pair of trays had appeared. "It appears that someone is keeping abreast of our activities." He looked around irritably. "I don't appreciate being spied upon, young lady. Especially when I'm not aware of it."

Teela had gotten up to go get her tray, but Duncan stayed where he was, watching Dorgan. After a second or so, his eyes widened and Duncan smiled to himself. When the healer's expression returned to normal, Duncan said, "What did she say?"

"That she would let me know when she was watching in the future," he said, sounding aggravated.

"At least she talks to you," Teela said softly, sitting down with Adam on the bed.

"She's just very private, Teela," Adam said. "It's nothing personal."

Duncan got up to get his own tray, partly to hide his expression. Adam had asked him many times why the Sorceress wouldn't talk to Teela, and he'd never seemed satisfied by the answers he'd been given. Yet there he was trying to comfort Teela with them.

"I guess," Teela said. "It's just very frustrating."

Duncan sat down at the table the food had appeared on and started eating.

After a few moments, Teela said, "So, how're you doing?"

Adam shrugged. "I'm okay," he said, looking down at his plate.

"Oh."

"You?"

She shrugged. "Okay."

Duncan wished that the pair of them would find something to talk about rather than continuing the awkward adolescent conversation they were having.

"I'm going to go get some work done," Dorgan announced abruptly. "Just stick your head out the door and yell if you need me."

When the door shut, Adam said, "He means if I start twitching or something."

"Twitching?" Teela asked, turning to sit sideways, leaning against the headboard.

"Or something. I keep having these weird reactions. Last night my hands started shaking and wouldn't stop. Dorgan put this thing on my head to check out my brain patterns, or something like that, and he said I was basically normal, and that it was just a drug reaction."

"How bad was it?" Teela asked.

"Not too bad, I guess. I played chess okay."

"They'll stop, though, right? These reactions? When all the drugs are out of your system?"

Adam knit his eyebrows. "I hope so. I mean, I think they will."

Duncan hunched slightly, hoping they wouldn't ask him. He was all too aware that sometimes drugs could have permanent effects on the body's operation.

"Teela?" Adam's voice suddenly sounded slightly strained. Duncan turned his head and saw that Adam looked very uncomfortable, and there was high color in his cheeks.

"What?"

"Would you mind getting off the bed?"

"Why?" she asked, looking up. Her eyes widened as she took in his expression and she put her tray on the bedside table and jumped off the bed. Adam pushed his tray aside and pulled his knees up to his chest, biting his lip and rocking slightly. Teela stared for a moment and then walked slowly over to her father. "What did I do?" she asked in a low voice.

"I don't know," he said, getting up and walking over. "Is there anything I can do, Adam?" he asked.

The boy flushed hotter. "Stop talking to me for a minute?" he suggested. Duncan nodded, picked up Teela's tray and guided her over to the table. They sat and ate, and after a few minutes, Adam got up quietly and walked across to the bathing chamber.

"What do you think I did?" Teela asked.

Duncan sighed. "I'm not sure, Teela. But it may have been your proximity. He's still very sensitive in certain areas. You were a female, on the same bed with him." She flushed, looking down at her plate.

"Would it make it worse if we were touching?" she asked. "Because my knee was touching him, on his thigh, I think."

He nodded. "It might. You want to be very careful about touching him right now. It may take some time for him to get over the trauma of what happened, and until he does, he will likely continue to be very sensitive."

Teela glared at her scrambled eggs. "I'd like to kill that bitch with my bare hands."

"I know the feeling," he said.

She looked up, eyes wide with surprise. "You do? I didn't think you ever . . . I mean, we don't kill people, do we?"

Duncan was silent for a moment, choosing his words with care. "This woman is a predator who has been operating for some two hundred years, probably quite a lot longer. She takes young men out of their normal lives, conditions them to serve her as slaves by means of emotional, magical and chemical manipulation, then she kills them when they're of no further use to her. We have no idea how long she's been at this, nor how many young men she's destroyed this way."

"So she's as bad as Skeletor?" Teela asked.

Duncan shook his head. "Much worse. Skeletor is cruel, vicious and vindictive, but he's also utterly insane. What he does, he does in the heat of passion and madness. He has a political goal, he wants to rule Eternia, etc." He paused, wetting his lips. "Daviona likes her luxury, her pleasure and her convenience. She's not interested in Adam because he's a pleasant young man. That's a bonus. She's interested in him because he's a source of potent magical power, and because hurting him hurts Randor. He's an object, a tool to be used. None of her 'servants' were people to her. At most they were pets. The only things she ever said to any of them were either commands or manipulative endearments. And all of it is coldly calculated." He snorted. "Skeletor may be willing to sacrifice any of his minions to gain his ends, whether they agree to it or not, but he acknowledges their existence as people."

"Are you saying that when she looks at Adam she doesn't see a person with thoughts and feelings of his own?"

"When she looks at Adam she sees an unexpectedly useful toy," Duncan said flatly. Teela flinched. "We haven't told many people this, so don't discuss it, but there are recorded images of much of what went on in that place. I've watched a lot of them, all the ones that concern Adam, and I don't think she considers anyone in the world to be of the slightest importance, except insofar as they can serve her."

"You don't mean there are images of her . . . r – raping him? Do you?"

He nodded. "Yes, there are."

"And you've seen it?" He nodded again. "How could you watch something like that? I mean, wasn't it . . . I don't know . . . horrible? Nauseating?"

"It was." Duncan had stopped eating and he pushed the tray away. "But we had to know what happened, and Adam wasn't talking yet when I started. He still hasn't much, I don't think."

"I can't even imagine what that's got to be like," she said. "I mean, Queen Marlena sat down with me awhile ago and talked to me about things that might happen to me if I was going to be a soldier, but I never imagined something like that could happen to Adam."

"None of us did. We didn't really expect it to happen to you, but you had to know about it, just in case."

"And nobody had that conversation with Adam, did they?"

"Truthfully, it would never have occurred to me," Duncan said, grimacing. "It's much more common for rape to happen to women than to men. And even when it does happen to men, it's usually other men, and that's a completely different experience."

Teela blinked. "I don't even want to know," she said, looking away. Then her eyes widened and she turned back. "Wait, you don't – did any of the guards – did they –" She stuttered to a stop, staring at him, transfixed with horror.

"No, they didn't," he said, immeasurably relieved. He hadn't even considered that possibility. "We have every moment of his time accounted for. They never assaulted him in that way. They restrained him, and they gave him the drugs . . ." He could see the fury rising in her expression, but he shook his head. "They were conditioned. They had no choices. All their choices were taken away when Daviona took them into her service when they were twelve years old."

"But there were so many more of them than there were of her."

"And she recorded everything they did from morning to night and all through their sleeping periods. They were completely under her control, Teela. Drugs and magic are a very nearly unbeatable combination."

"She deserves to die," Teela growled.

"That was the king's conclusion as well. When we find her, we will kill her."


	17. Friendship

**Chapter 17 – Friendship**

Adam sat down in the bathing chamber. His father had submerged to rinse his hair as he'd entered, so the prince just waited for him to finish. The problem that had arisen as Teela's knee kept brushing against his thigh was vanishing, but he was too embarrassed to sit in there . . . with her. He gulped. His mother had said that Teela knew what was going on. He couldn't decide whether that made things okay, or if it made them infinitely worse.

Duncan might understand the problem, in fact, Adam was pretty sure he did, but fathers had been known to kill for less. Adam couldn't help wondering how Duncan felt about the thought that Adam was reacting _that _way to his daughter.

There had been a lot of splashing as his dad rinsed his hair. Now he sat up, reaching blindly for the towel and drying his face off with it. Whipping the towel back onto its rail, he reached for the soap and caught sight of Adam.

His eyes widened with concern. "Is everything all right?" Adam couldn't get any words out so he just nodded tautly. "What is it?"

Adam looked down at his lap and shrugged. He took a deep breath and got his voice back under control. "It's stupid," he muttered.

"Nothing's stupid, Adam. What happened?" His father really did sound concerned.

Adam pressed his lips together nervously. "I just – Teela sat down next to me, and her knee started rubbing against my leg and . . ." He gulped.

"Oh, I see." His father's expression was sympathetic. "I remember that."

Adam blinked. "What?"

"That, my boy, is a problem all young men have at about your age. It's hideously, mortifyingly embarrassing, but eventually your body stops informing you every time it sees a pretty girl."

"I thought this was part of the drug thing . . . part of what Davi did to me."

"Well, the aphrodisiacs may be making it a little more . . . urgent . . . but it's normal." His father smiled. "And it will pass."

The prince sighed. "It's obnoxious," he said. "Teela probably thinks I'm a weirdo. I told her to get off the bed. She did, but I could tell she wanted to know what was wrong. It's not as if I could tell her." He sighed.

"No, you couldn't," his father agreed. "Look, if it's any comfort, the more time you spend around her, the less likely it is to happen. Continued exposure dampens the reaction."

"That's good," Adam replied. "I think I would have died if this happened before. I wouldn't have known who to ask about it." His father's eyes fell. "I probably would have asked Dorgan, I guess. Or maybe Mekanek."

"Well, your instincts are good. Both of those men would be a good choice."

Adam shrugged. "I'd better go out so you can dry off and get dressed again," he said. "I just – I couldn't stay out there, and I didn't want to . . ."

"It's all right, Adam. You don't have to justify anything. And you don't have to leave." His father stood up and got out of the tub, briskly rubbing himself dry. Adam leaned back against the wall behind him as Randor got dressed.

It was nice to be on good terms with his father again. They had stopped being close when he was about thirteen or so. From his considerably more mature vantage point at sixteen, he could see that he'd been a bit of a twerp, but then he'd become He-Man and the distance that had grown up became a chasm. One he hadn't known how to cross.

He wished it hadn't taken Daviona to bridge it.

His father finished getting dressed and Adam stood up. His father caught him in a bear hug. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," Adam replied, wrapping his arms around his father. They stood embracing, and Adam wished the moment could last forever. He knew, though, that it couldn't, and that Teela and Duncan were outside, probably wondering what was keeping them.

Reluctantly, he pulled away and went toward the door. His father caught his arm and held him back. "Son?" Adam turned and found that his father had bent so that they were eye to eye. "You have nothing whatsoever to be ashamed of. Okay?"

Adam gulped. "Nothing?" he squeaked. "Nothing at all? You can't – I mean – a lot happened – I did things – she – I – you don't know –"

His father stood up straight and put his hands on Adam's shoulders. Adam's eyes, trapped by his, followed him up. "Nothing, Adam. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Adam's mouth seemed to be disconnected from his common sense. "Not even running away from battles?" He clamped his jaw shut, appalled that he'd said that, but unable to take it back as he gazed deeply into his father's eyes.

* * *

Adam's innocent blue eyes were locked on Randor's, and the king thought quickly. Trying to define specific things as shameful or not would be messy and more confusing than helpful. Randor shook his head. "I said nothing and I meant nothing."

Adam's eyes widened, and he took a deep breath. "Okay," he said, then threw his arms around Randor again. Looking down at his son's head, the king hugged him back. It occurred to him as he considered his son that Duncan had always been extremely vociferous in his contempt for people who deserted a fight once it began. Yet he had never once said a single word about Adam's running away. In fact, he had been nothing but supportive of the boy since the first time.

Adam talked to Duncan. Randor knew that. It had often frustrated him to know that his own son wouldn't talk to him about his problems, yet he would talk to Duncan. So, quite likely, Duncan knew what Adam's trouble was, but had been sworn to silence by the boy. Randor knew that his closest friend would tell him if there was anything serious going on.

_I'll just have to trust Duncan's judgement,_ Randor thought. _I've been being too hard on Adam, I'm sure._

When Adam pulled away again, Randor smiled down. "You ready to go back out?" he asked. The boy nodded and they went into the main room.

* * *

Teela looked up as Adam and his father came out of the bathing chamber. He seemed calmer now, more sure of himself. She smiled shyly at him, embarrassed at having caused him difficulty. He smiled back, seeming almost as shy himself. Teela still felt a little off balance from her conversation with her father. She didn't know what to think. The king had given orders that Daviona was to be killed. It was sort of stunning.

She wondered what Adam would think.

"Was anyone hurt in Skeletor's attack?" Adam asked.

Teela shook her head. "No, in fact your father was the only one directly involved," she said. "We were called to the village of Daransha where Skeletor had Whiplash and Tu-Badd stage a diversionary assault."

"Are the villagers okay?" Adam asked worriedly.

"We're waiting on Mekanek's report."

"Wait no longer," Mekanek said, his head arcing into the room. Adam's eyes widened as he realized that the master was standing outside Grayskull with his head within the castle. Teela was still shocked that he could do that. She imagined that the Sorceress was either deeply alarmed by the breach in her defenses, or she was allowing it, and Teela found herself wondering which.

Mek sent his head straight for Adam's father, and he nodded. "Sire, there were eleven casualties in Daransha. Two low grade burns, five people with minor smoke inhalation problems, three who have more serious problems with their lungs and who had to be shipped to the palace, and one man who sprained his ankle in attempting to escape." The king nodded. "The fire is out, but the village is in ruins, so the villagers have been evacuated to Kyran for the time being. The guard have posted watchers to prevent looting, and all is well in hand."

"Very good," the king said. Adam was listening with avid concern. "Now, what about Tronak?"

"Stratos says he has overflown the region frequently, but that he's never spent any time in the city or the countryside. Rammy spent a few months with an aunt in Tronak as a boy. Other than that, no one is very familiar with the area."

"Damn." Teela's eyes widened and she glanced at Adam. His eyes met hers, just as startled. Teela had never heard the king swear before. "Thank you, Mekanek."

"Do you need us to stay outside Grayskull?" Mekanek asked. "Because, frankly, I think it's making the others a little bit nuts not to be able to come in and see Adam."

Adam looked puzzled. "Why would they want to come see me?" he asked.

"Well, kid," Mekanek said. "You were missing. Then you got found, but nobody was allowed to see you. Then you got whisked off to Grayskull, and still nobody gets to see you. It's kind of scary. People are worried. You're popular." He tilted his head. "Can't imagine why."

"Mekanek!" the king exclaimed. "He's not up to sarcasm right now."

Adam flushed and Teela saw him look down at his feet, which were shuffling.

Mekanek reared back slightly. "Oh, right. Um . . . maybe I'd better go. I can't talk without sarcasm."

"It's all right," Adam said, looking up at his father. "I understand what he meant."

"Still, it's as well to be careful," Randor said.

"Dad!" Adam hissed.

"My point was that the others want to see you."

Teela nodded. "I know I've heard them talking at breakfast," she said, looking over at Adam, who looked startled.

Slowly, he walked over to the window where Mekanek's neck was entering the room and leaned out, peering down. The king's eyes widened, and her father, who was closer, walked over to stand beside him. Teela wondered what had them so concerned, and then she realized. He was having odd, unpredictable reactions to those drugs. What if he got dizzy or something?

In the distance, she heard Ram-Man's bellow. "Hey, look! It's Adam!"

The prince seemed surprised, but he waved down at them. "Hi!"

"So why is he in Grayskull, your highness?" Mekanek asked the king.

Randor pursed his lips, then said, "She was able to attack him from a distance, using magic. We couldn't prevent that at the palace, but the shields of Grayskull have already proven to block her access to him."

Mekanek whistled. "Poor kid. Sorry about the sarcasm, by the way. I wasn't thinking."

The king sighed. "I know. And I may be being overprotective, but it's worrisome. He keeps saying things that make me think he needs reassurance that people actually do care about him."

"He's a modest kid," Mekanek said. "And he doesn't get his horn blown often enough."

Teela was surprised to see the king's shoulders slump. "I know. I'm realizing a lot of things right now, and I don't like most of them."

"These things happen, your highness," Mekanek said. "He's sixteen. It's a wretched age, for both parent and child, I think. Philip was just twelve, and he was already starting that challenging period."

Teela's eyebrows raised. She remembered Philip. She and Adam had played with him, even though he was a lot older than they were, but she'd never heard Mekanek talk about him. Not since he died. It was strange to think that he'd be older than Raon now. He was stuck in her mind as a twelve-year-old. When she'd been seven, that had seemed impossibly older than she was.

"Really?" Randor said. "You two seemed . . . I don't know, very close."

"Well, it was only the two of us," Mek said. "But he'd started the various habits that teenager boys engage in that are so distressing to their fathers." He sighed, and Teela could see the sadness in the set of his mouth. "In any case, it does pass off."

The king smiled, and his expression was filled with warmth and understanding. "Thank you, Mekanek, I know it's difficult for you to speak of Philip."

"Actually, this situation is bringing it all very close, Randor," the master said. Teela stayed very quiet. She didn't think they realized that she could hear them, and she didn't want to embarrass them by telling them. "Philip was twelve. I have to confess, I went and had a look at all those young men, just to be sure."

"Elders, I didn't even think of that!" Randor said. "I'm sorry, I –"

Mekanek shook his head. "No, Randor, don't be foolish. There's nothing to apologize for. None of them is Philip, and I'm just as glad. Those men are going to go through hell before they can have anything resembling normal lives."

Teela wondered just what had happened to them. The king nodded. "That's certainly true. But I had never thought about their lives before they came to Daviona past knowing that they were orphans."

Mekanek took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I just gave them parents and families in your mind, didn't I?"

"Fathers and mothers who would never have planned such a life for their sons, possible siblings who wonder where they wound up . . ." The king pursed his lips. "I can't fathom the depth of her callous disregard of everything beyond herself."

"We'll find her, Randor, and destroy her." Mekanek looked as grim as she'd ever seen the most cheerful of the masters. "For Adam's sake, and for the sake of all the young men whose lives and potential she's stolen."

Teela started when she heard Adam laugh and she turned to see that Stratos was hovering just outside the window smiling and chatting with him. The king and Mekanek turned as well, looking startled.

"Orko really did that?" Adam exclaimed.

"Oh, yes, Prince Adam. When he found out you were gone, he let off a pyrotechnic show the likes of which I've never seen."

"Why, though?" Adam asked.

Teela blinked. She'd missed that somehow. She walked over beside her father, very close, and he put his arm around her shoulders.

The king walked forward. "I think I know. I asked him what could be causing your lethargy, and he told me that Daviona might be doing just what she was doing."

"And then you three lit out of there as if running from the law," Mekanek said. "Followed by Dorgan and the Queen. You left a lot of people scratching their heads, kid."

Adam shrugged embarrassedly. "I didn't mean to."

"You did nothing, my prince," Stratos said reassuringly. "Now Orko's working with the medics, I believe. Trying to determine the nature of those potions."

"That's great," Adam said, his grin dimming still further. "The sooner we know about that stuff, the better."

Teela noticed that her father had grown very still all of a sudden and she looked up at him worriedly. His eyes were distant, and she wondered what he was thinking about.

"Yes, my prince. We are all doing our best to make things safe for you again," Stratos said in a serious tone.

Adam flushed and Teela wished that Stratos would stop being so . . . Stratos. He was embarrassing Adam, and in trying to make it better, he was only making it worse.

"Yes," her father said abruptly. "And we should get back to that."

Teela looked up, startled. "Right now?" she asked wistfully, wishing she could spend a little more time with Adam. She glanced over at the prince, and he looked disappointed as well.

Her father nodded firmly. "Yes, we need to go." She saw him exchange a look with the king, and this time Randor made no objection to their leaving, though he looked unhappy about it. Adam glanced at her and then looked away.

"I will see you soon, I hope, my prince," Stratos said.

Adam grinned at him with more enthusiasm. "That'd be great!" he said.

"Yeah, see ya, kid," Mekanek said, retracting his neck so that he was next to Adam. "Just remember, everyone is thinking of you."

"Okay," Adam said. "That sounds pretty boring, but okay."

Mekanek grinned and continued retracting his neck. Stratos saluted both Adam and the king and flew away. Her father turned to the king. "The Sorceress contacted me," he said. "She wants to get started with Adam, but she needs more privacy than she can get with the rest of us hanging around."

Adam gulped and Teela walked over beside him. "You'll be fine," she said softly.

He nodded as their fathers drew away toward the door. "I know. I just – magic seems a little creepy right now."

"It's the Sorceress," Teela said.

Adam shrugged. "It's still giving me butterflies in my stomach," he said. "And I know it's stupid, but I can't help it."

She was afraid to put an arm around him, afraid to touch him, but saying good bye seemed incomplete without a hug. "I've got to go," she said, shifting her feet uncomfortably.

"I know," he said. Just as she was turning away, he caught her arm and gave her a big hug. "Thanks for coming, and I'm sorry I freaked out on you."

She hugged him back. "It's okay. See you later."

When she and her father were alone in the halls on their way out of the castle, she said, "He didn't mind hugging me."

He seemed to understand the import of her comment without having to ask. "He hugged you. He was in control."

Teela thought about that for a minute. "Oh. That makes sense." They walked silently for a few minutes. "I wish this had never happened."

Her father put his arm around her again, but he didn't say anything. They walked that way together out of the castle, Teela drawing strength from her father's embrace.


	18. Changing Perspectives

**Chapter 18 **–** Changing Perspectives**

Evil-Lyn walked into the throne room with mild trepidation. Skeletor's yells had been echoing throughout the mountain, and her curiosity to find out what the trouble was had finally overcome her common sense. She had the strong feeling that witnessing this tirade wouldn't be good for anyone's health, but at least she wouldn't be alone.

Beastman and Trap Jaw were already in there, and Tri-Klops entered shortly after she did.

"What was Randor doing at Grayskull?" the skull-faced buffoon demanded rhetorically. At least she assumed it was rhetorical, since none of them was likely to know.

Tri-Klops, who seemed to lack the wisdom to know when Skeletor didn't really want an answer to his questions, spoke up. "He and the boy are both there," he said.

Skeletor turned, his eyes flashing crimson. "WHAT!?" He stalked over to Tri-Klops who backed up slightly, clearly nervous.

Evil-Lyn noticed that one of her nails seemed a bit rough and lifted it to her face, smoothing it with a wisp of magic.

"Um . . . they both are, the prince and the king," Tri-Klops stuttered.

"They both are what?" Skeletor asked.

"They both are at Grayskull," Tri-Klops said. Evil-Lyn rigidly controlled the impulse to laugh. Neither man would appreciate a burst of mirth, and while she didn't care what either of them thought, she didn't have any desire for pain. "I don't know why, but one of my doomseekers saw them get into a wind raider with Man-at-Arms. They all three went in, followed by the queen, that chief healer and Teela."

"That boy is supposed to be dead!" Skeletor exclaimed.

"And would be if you hadn't gotten clever," Evil-Lyn muttered. Unfortunately, Skeletor's ears were a little more acute than she had bargained for.

Skeletor turned on her, the light in his eye sockets flaring. "What was that, Evil-Lyn?"

"I said that he would be if Daviona hadn't gotten clever," she said, smiling insolently. His eyes flared yet brighter, and she knew he wasn't fooled by her lie. Nevertheless, it had given him the excuse he needed to ignore her sally, and he took it, turning away.

"Yes, Daviona is responsible. She was to have killed him. Do we even know what she did to him?"

"I'd lay odds that I know," Trap Jaw said, leering. "Wasn't she the one who wanted you to strip him naked right there on the block?"

Skeletor nodded. "Yes," he said slowly. "No doubt she made a pet of him, but instead of killing him she allowed him to be rescued."

_Allowed?_ Evil-Lyn thought with some amusement. _Yes, I'm sure she was thrilled to be run out of her dwelling and beggared._ She had gone by the site in the dark of early morning, covered by shadow as was her wont. That woman had possessed an enormous amount of power and resourcefulness, which she had squandered on luxury and hedonism.

"What we need to know," Skeletor continued, "is why they've removed him to Grayskull. It seems an odd thing for the Sorceress, who has kept her privacy for so long, to throw her doors wide to the coward prince and his father."

"How many of them stayed within?" Evil-Lyn asked Tri-Klops.

"Just Prince Adam, Randor and the healer. The others went home."

Skeletor turned to her. "Evil-Lyn, you're a woman, and a witch," he said.

"Yes?" she replied slowly, wondering just where he was going with this question. From the expressions on her compatriots' faces, they found this just as alarming a thing to point out as she did. "What of it?"

"Do you know of any reason why Daviona might have held onto that puling prince?"

Evil-Lyn raised an eyebrow. "What, beyond the fact that all her attendants were comely young men?" she asked.

"How do you know that?" Beastman asked. "I mean, I knew they were males, but how do you know what they looked like?"

"I provided the robes," she said. "They hid no one from me."

"Very good, Evil-Lyn," Skeletor said. "But beyond a taste for handsome young men, what could she want the prince for?"

"Sex magic," she said. "Of a very coercive flavor, unless I miss my guess."

Skeletor tilted his head. "But sex magic isn't that powerful, is it?" he asked. "It's certainly nothing to base a power structure on."

Evil-Lyn shrugged. "Daviona seems to have refined the art," she said. "And she wasn't interested in power. Near as I can tell, she wasn't interested in much beyond her little sphere."

"So, she had sex with him?" Trap Jaw said. "I thought she tortured him or something."

Evil-Lyn turned to him and said, "If I went into your chambers and drugged you to the teeth and had my way with –" The expression in his eyes told her that she was on the wrong track. It also made her want to zap him. "Strike that. If Beastman went into your room and –"

His eyes widened and he looked at Beastman with something akin to disgust. "Beastman? What, is she ugly?"

"No, she's not, but he was probably a virgin." She looked at him, waiting for him to understand. Skeletor was chuckling beside her.

Trap Jaw grinned. "Score! An older woman, experienced, what could be wrong with that?"

Evil-Lyn raised her staff and blasted him, then turned to Skeletor. Her overlord was grinning broadly at her. Barely managing to resist the impulse to throw a bolt at him as well, she said, "Has he always been that stupid?"

"My dear Evil-Lyn, I don't believe you'd have a lack of volunteers should you decide to raise a little power," he said, walking over to her and putting an arm around her shoulders.

She looked up at him through narrowed eyes. "I think not." She caused the crystal orb on the end of her staff to flare slightly to emphasize the point in case anyone had misapprehensions.

Skeletor laughed maniacally, not releasing his arm around her shoulders. "Yes, of course, Evil-Lyn. I want you to find out for me just why Prince Adam has been moved into Grayskull."

_Ah, yes, the inevitable impossible task that I must complete in a day or less._ "As you wish, Lord Skeletor," she said. He smiled and took his arm away, turning to Beastman, clearly dismissing her.

Fuming silently, she walked out of the throne room, plans to discover the truth already whirling in her head.

* * *

Duncan stood in front of the gathered masters. Just as he drew breath in to start, Orko floated in and took up a place at the end of the table, trying to be unobtrusive. Remembering the many times he had run the little Trollan out of such meetings, Duncan hid a grimace of guilt that, despite all the good work he'd done over the last week, he still felt so unwelcome.

He smiled at Orko who brightened instantly and floated a little higher. There were a few startled looks around the table, but Duncan ignored those. "All right, everyone here knows the basic situation up to the point of Adam's rescue. Let me fill in a few more pieces of the puzzle. Daviona drains magical and life force energy out of her . . . young men." Duncan cleared his throat. "The reason Adam has been taken to Grayskull is that Daviona is still attempting to drain him from a distance. She nearly killed him doing so."

"That's horrible!" Ram-Man exclaimed furiously.

"How is it possible to drain someone from a distance?" Buzz Off asked perplexedly. He got a few glares from the other masters, which he didn't seem to notice.

"What, don't you think _that's _okay?" Man-E-Faces asked dryly. Duncan looked heavenward, but before he could intervene, Buzz Off responded.

"Just because I do not understand why the woman mating with him was a problem does not mean I think what she did was 'okay'!" he said angrily. "Among my people mating is not a choice, it is . . ." The Andrenid shook his head. "It is different, biologically. You can't expect me to understand that." Duncan nodded agreement, clearly surprising Manny and Ram-Man. "But drugging him, burning him, and draining him of his life force is entirely different."

"Yes, this is true," Duncan said firmly. "I don't want to hear anyone else saying anything of the kind. We are a diverse group, and we will not always understand each other." He took a deep breath. "Let's move on to what we're here for." There were nods all around the table, and a couple of abashed looks as well. "We have to find Daviona. For one thing, even if Adam is safe from her right now, the juvenile male population of the world isn't."

Teela, who had placed herself very close to him, clenched her fists on the table. He dropped his hand onto her shoulder comfortingly. "But, we can't forget that we have to protect the palace, the people of Eternia and Castle Grayskull from attack. We are going to have to split up into teams that will have to keep in close contact. We're also going to have to coordinate with the guard to keep everything properly covered."

"What do you mean 'the juvenile male population'?" Roboto asked. "Surely young men of all ages are in danger from such a predator, not just the very young ones."

Duncan looked down at the table. "Daviona's standard operating procedure is to take young orphan boys of twelve into her service. Using a combination of emotional and physical abuse, mind control magic and drugs she conditions them to be utterly devoted to her."

There was silence around the table as they all took this in. "So those guards . . ." Sy-Klone said, his voice trailing off.

"Are just as much victims as Adam was." Duncan said. "Aside from the two children, the youngest of them is in his early thirties. The oldest is in his seventies. She controlled every aspect of their lives, including the aging process."

"By the Elders," Stratos breathed in shocked horror.

"But, Man-at-Arms, did she not use them as bodyguards and . . . energy sources, as you said?" Roboto asked. Duncan nodded. "Then, logically, she would not seek the youngest boys at this time. She would seek older men, to act as guards and porters and . . . energy sources."

Duncan nodded. "Quite right. We need to keep an ear out for any reports of missing young men. However, she seems to be fairly savvy. She's been at this a long time, so I suspect she'll be looking for fellows who won't be noticed as missing, if you know what I mean."

"Drifters, malcontents, that sort, right?" Mekanek suggested.

"Exactly. And we have no really clear idea of her powers. If you see her, don't try to take her on alone."

Abruptly, Orko floated a little higher and raised his hand. "Man-at-Arms! Man-at-Arms!"

"Yes, Orko?" Duncan said. His unusual tolerance of interruption from that quarter didn't go unnoticed this time, either.

"I would guess, from her signature and from the kinds of things I've seen her cast on the drugs, that she's not like Evil-Lyn and Skeletor. I mean, she's not big on the attack magic. Her stuff is more subtle. Mind control, environmental control, that kind of thing. She wouldn't blast you, she'd make you not notice her, or if that didn't work, she'd make the ground under your feet slippery so you'd fall."

"I see," Duncan said, nodding.

"And illusions. I wouldn't be surprised to see her cast illusions." Orko looked like he was thinking furiously. "And there's always potions. The stuff we've got here is all injected, but that's not to say that she couldn't create something that would seep in through the skin and make someone see bright green unilopes or something. I can think of three or four magical spells that would make that easy as pudding."

Duncan grimaced. "So, no one goes alone. We'll have to travel in groups of at least two, preferably three."

"And breath masks might be a good idea," Manny said. "Or would it be hard to create something that would act like a gas?" he asked, looking over at Man-at-Arms.

Duncan looked at Orko, who shook his head soberly. "Huh uh," he said. "Easy as pudding."

"Are her spells and potions specialized for men?" Teela asked suddenly.

Orko goggled at her, then nodded. "Yeah, I mean, most of them are. They might work on women anyway, but she does focus on men an awful lot."

"I don't think we can count on things not working on you, Teela," Duncan said.

"I know, but it might give me an advantage, nonetheless," she said, her eyes cold and flinty.

"So, what's the plan?" Ram-Man asked.

Duncan cleared his throat. "The Sorceress has told us that her location when she tried to drain Adam today was somewhere within this region." He projected a map in the middle of the table and all the masters leaned in. "Ram-Man knows the city marginally from spending time there as a boy."

"Um . . . the part of the city where my aunt lived was destroyed during the war," Ram-Man said. "I know a little bit, still, but a lot of what I knew is gone."

"I see." Duncan stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Father, I think it wouldn't be a bad idea to gather in all the female guards and constables to help with the search," Teela said. "Even if we can't count on things not working on us, Daviona's not used to dealing with women."

He looked down at his daughter pensively. "That's a good thought." She smiled. He transferred his attention to the group at large. "I'm going to split us up into teams of three for now, and give each group a back up of five guards each. One team will stay mobile, near the palace and Grayskull, to be ready to protect the kingdom. The other two will be searching. I've given careful thought to the team assignments, and this is what I've settled on. Ram-Man and Buzz Off will be with me. Teela, Man-E-Faces and Stratos will work together, and then Mekanek, Roboto and Sy-Klone." He waited for any potential objections. Hearing none, he nodded sharply. "We'll start this tomorrow, trading off the searching duty every three days. Each evening and each morning we'll meet like this and discuss what we have or haven't found."

Orko floated higher again, raising his hand. He didn't call out this time, so Duncan inclined his head. "What about me?" he asked.

"Aren't you still needed in the infimary lab?"

The little magician drifted downward slightly. "Sometimes, but I could arrange to have the things they need me for scheduled all together so I could go out and help some of the time."

"Let me think about it," Duncan said. "In the meantime, those of you with keen senses of smell who haven't been to Daviona's lair need to go out there and get a whiff of her."

"Oh, and I'd better go, too!" Orko exclaimed. "I forgot to do something."

"All right. If anyone has questions or problems, I'm going to be in the communication center."

The meeting broke up, the teams congregating together. Then Man-E-Faces, Buzz Off and Orko headed out toward the hangar together.

* * *

When Teela and Duncan had left, Adam and his father had waited for a few minutes, but the Sorceress didn't immediately arrive. The prince was too restless with nerves to sit still for long, so he walked into the sitting room and started pacing.

His father followed and watched him for a moment. Before long, he shook his head and walked over to the table. "How about a rematch?" he suggested, looking down at the chessboard.

Adam pursed his lips. "Sure," he said. _If nothing else, getting involved in something is the surest way to get the Sorceress to call._

Sure enough, as soon as they were really into the game, there was a knock at the door and the Sorceress came in. They stood up, and Adam really saw her for the first time since they'd arrived. He blinked, staring at her. _She's a woman._ He moved closer to his father, edging slightly behind him. _How did I never notice that she's a woman?_

His father didn't seem to notice his reaction. "Greetings, Sorceress. Again, I'd like to thank you for all the help."

"It's my pleasure," she said. "Prince Adam is a very special young man."

It took all of Adam's willpower not to break and run when she said that. He gulped. "Dad?" he said, and his voice squeaked.

"Adam?" His father turned to him and looked down, eyes wide with worry. "Adam, what is it?"

The prince clutched at his father's arms, humiliated but unable to control his reaction. "She's a woman!" There was no understanding in his father's eyes. He buried his face in his father's chest to escape those confused eyes. "She's a woman and she's a does magic. I don't think I can –" His knees gave way and his father followed him to the ground, holding him close.

He could hear as his father spoke, but he was nearly paralyzed with terror. "Sorceress, I –"

"I will go. I will return later." The door shut again.

Adam felt tears start flowing down his cheeks and was appalled by this idiotic reaction, but he couldn't stop shaking.

A door opened, and Adam flinched. "What happened?" Dorgan exclaimed.

"Adam had a very bad reaction to seeing the Sorceress," his father explained.

"Hell," Dorgan said. Adam couldn't help but agree.

* * *

Daviona stood in the middle of a town she'd never been in before. A place called Yalin that hadn't existed when she'd last lived in this region. She was contemplating her options. Before she'd left her abode, she had scried to discover what would be her best choice for garments, so she was attracting no undue notice. As a stranger – and a lovely woman – she naturally stood out, but no more than that.

She was crossing to a bakery when the sense of violation hit her. She had left the power bubbles under her former home untouched, holding them in reserve for future use. Tapping them could also pinpoint her location, so she had decided to wait to claim that power until the intense attention had died down. It was risky, a wizard might steal the energy from them for himself, but she had no choice.

Now she sensed it as the first one was punctured to release the power. With a distinct feeling of rage, she realized that the wizard who had vandalized her carefully hoarded energy supply wasn't even absorbing the power. He was allowing it to seep into the earth. When he collapsed the second bubble, she let out a cry of anger and tripped, falling to her knees.

She was immediately helped back to her feet by a nearby man who was, unfortunately, with a woman. She thanked him. Evidently her exclamation had been taken for a girlish cry of alarm. Her benefactor helped her into a nearby tearoom, and she thanked him, rigidly controlling her reaction to the continuing vandalism.

That little freak would pay for this.


	19. Power & Connections

**Chapter 19 – Power & Connections**

"_Duncan!"_ Man-at-Arms wasn't prepared for the intense fury that accompanied this call. He put a hand on his forehead, as if to contain the sudden headache the Sorceress' emotions had caused as they poured into him.

"_Yes?"_

"_He's afraid of me!"_ Duncan shook his head, trying to make sense of the words. _"Adam's afraid of me."_

"_He's afraid – but why?"_

"_Because I'm a woman and a sorceress. He can't bear for me to be in the same room with him. He collapsed."_

Duncan bit his lip. That complicated matters tremendously. _"He will get over it, I'm sure."_

"_I know,"_ she replied. _"But I am going to kill that vile, monstrous bitch if I get my hands on her."_ With that, she ended the call, leaving Duncan with a splitting headache and a profound sense of dismay. If Adam was afraid of the Sorceress . . . what would that mean for the future?

He didn't have time for that right now. Shaking his head gingerly, he bent once more to his task of calling in the needed female guards.

* * *

The queen had ordered Raon to take some time off. Reluctantly, he had left his task of transcribing the images from Daviona's burrow. _The spider's lair,_ he thought disgustedly. He'd walked out into the city to see if he could find a drink somewhere.

He was having difficulty dealing with this situation, but he wasn't about to let on. He didn't want someone else, someone who didn't know Adam as well as he did, put in charge of the task. The medics seemed to be picking up on his distress, though, because he'd found indigestion remedies on his last three trays of food.

Adam had been an annoyingly cute kid, always trying to join in on the games of the older boys. Raon had gotten angry at his friends back then, because some of them wanted to leave the little kid out and others thought they should be extra nice to him because he was going to be king someday.

So, leaving the others to stew, he'd gone off to play with Adam and Teela, despite the fact that he was three years older than they were. A couple of the other boys would join them sometimes, but mostly it was just the three of them. And Phillip, but Raon shook his head. He didn't want to think about him.

Before long, school and martial studies had taken most of his time away from play, but he still remembered long games of hide and seek and pirates vividly. _Probably more vividly than they do, _he thought wryly. When he found that little room down in that underground dwelling, he'd nearly come unglued at the sight of those horrifying images. The thought of someone else watching them, transcribing them, writing the reports for the king . . . he couldn't bear it.

When he arrived at Tavern Row, he discovered that his desire for a drink was not equal to his desire avoid other people. Sighing, he kept walking right out of town into the forest beyond. The woods were orange and red and yellow with the splendor of fall, and there was peace to be found in the quiet sounds of animals. He found himself a quiet spot by the river and sat down to watch the water flow by.

Time passed without his noticing, and it was well into twilight when he heard the sound of a twig breaking behind him. He turned his head to see who it was and rose to his feet in shock. Before he could do more than stand up, however, Evil-Lyn froze him in place with a casual wave of her hand.

"What's your name?" she asked, walking up and gazing at him. She tapped his lips and the paralysis left his face.

"What do you want?" he demanded, fear clenching deep in his gut.

"First I want your name," she said. "How persuasive am I going to have to get?"

His eyes narrowed. "My name is Raon," he said. "My rank is sergeant. My –"

"I'm not interested in any sort of military information," she said, raising an eyebrow as she looked up into his face. "You are going to be tiresome, aren't you?"

"You might as well kill me now," he said. "I'm not going to tell you anything."

She smiled and reached up to touch his face. "Oh, but you will," she said, her gaze locking with his. He couldn't turn his head, he couldn't pull away. It was as if her eyes were boring into his soul. "Tell me, Raon, why has Prince Adam been taken to Grayskull?"

He tried to grit his teeth, to keep from answering, but she was in control. "Daviona was still draining him from wherever she is."

"Indeed?" Her look grew quizzical. "That's not very practical. So much energy would be lost that it would become pointless." She hadn't asked a direct question so he remained silent. "How much do you know about what happened to Prince Adam?" she asked.

"A lot," he said, unable to prevent himself from responding, but able to narrow his answer to an unhelpful phrase.

"What exactly do you know?" she asked.

With despair, he listened to himself answer. He started with the beginning of the first images in Daviona's sitting room and described everything he'd seen. She paused him periodically to ask more detailed questions, which he answered, at length. By the time she was done, full dark had fallen and he had revealed everything he knew about Adam's time with Daviona. Since he had seen every recording, some of them more than once, that meant she knew everything that had happened.

Finally, she took her eyes away from his. If he could have moved, he'd have fallen to the ground in deepest despair. He had just given her all the information she needed to use Adam's trauma against him.She spoke after a few moments' silence. "That's truly nauseating." He opened his eyes in surprise. "What an incredible abuse of power for so little gain."

"What are you going to do with this knowledge?" he asked apprehensively.

"That's not your concern," she said, an odd, bemused expression crossing her face. "I'd think you'd be more concerned about your own life."

"What you do to me now doesn't matter," he replied in abject misery.

"Oh, wallow in self-condemnation on your own time," she muttered. "Now, I can't have you telling your people about this, but I don't want them to miss you and put up an alert." She touched his forehead and said, "Forget."

* * *

Raon stood up and stretched. He must have fallen asleep. The queen would be pleased. He'd had a nice, long, uneventful day off. Once the kinks were worked out, he headed back into the city and to the palace.

* * *

Evil-Lyn watched the young man rise, stretch and return to the city. Clearly the spell to fuzz his memory had been effective, for he seemed not at all alarmed.

She contemplated what she had learned. Her guess about coercion had proven more than accurate, to a degree that she found truly disturbing. If the young man's memory was reliable, Daviona was, on her own turf, a force to be reckoned with. Potions, despite their frequent use in folk tales and sensational novels, were neither easy to concoct nor entirely reliable, but Daviona appeared to have solved that dilemma, apparently by applying chemistry as well as magic to her brews. The combination was unusual but evidently effective.

Once she was certain that Sergeant Raon was out of sight and hearing, she walked back to her vehicle. It had been marvelous luck to find a fellow who was so well informed regarding not only Prince Adam's condition, but what he had suffered at the hands of Daviona.

She wished she could see some of the images he had spoken of because she was curious about the other woman's personality. She sounded truly vile, but Evil-Lyn couldn't be sure. Young, self-righteous Sergeant Raon had been a filter for all the information, and his own feelings had undoubtedly colored his descriptions of the events.

She paused as she activated the engine of her vehicle, then shut it off again immediately. Instead of leaving, she headed deeper into the woods, seeking a place where she would be less likely to be interrupted. After more than a day, it was not likely that any evidence of the power drain would be visible even to her magesight, but it was worth checking. If his power was as great as Daviona had said, some traces might yet remain.

A thick stand of evergreens provided her with the shelter she needed. Evil-Lyn settled herself on the ground, making sure she was completely out of sight. Closing her eyes, she began to meditate. When her mind was still enough to enter a deep trance state, she reached out to scan the region for traces of Daviona's power drain.

She was shocked by what she found. If she'd needed a way to pinpoint Adam's room in the infirmary, all she'd have needed was the trail of energy that had scattered as Daviona had pulled power from the boy. It very nearly resembled an arrow. The central shaft of the arrow was amazingly strong, even after nearly forty hours, and the amount of energy that was drifting loose, gradually being subsumed into the environment, was astonishing. Daviona hadn't been kidding – the boy _was_ a veritable battery if he'd given up that much energy and yet lived.

Clearly, from what she could see, only a fraction of that power had reached Daviona, but given the distance, it was amazing that anything had. Without some kind of preset, shielded conduit, draining over such a long distance was nearly pointless.

But now she had Skeletor's answer. The question was, what was she going to do with it. And if she told him the complete truth, what would he do with the knowledge?

Drawing herself fully back within the confines of her skull, Evil-Lyn opened her eyes and listened closely. Then she stood and, pulling shadow about her, returned to her vehicle.

* * *

Adam sat on the bed in the bedroom, staring at the wall opposite the bed. His father had gone to use the privy and Dorgan was sitting in the chair by the window. He felt like an idiot. _The Sorceress is a woman. That's shocking news,_ he derided himself. The prince was hugging his knees against his chest, and his muscles were so tense that the burn on his arm throbbed with pain. He wished devoutly that he knew how to make all these stupid phobias and hang ups just vanish.

Unfortunately, that wasn't possible. He was stuck with the wretchedness of the situation, stuck with being afraid of the Sorceress, edgy around Teela and just generally pathetic. Both his father and Dorgan had told him that his reaction was natural and that they should have expected it, but Adam wasn't sure what to make of that. Why should they have expected him to turn into a ball of jelly upon seeing the Sorceress? It was ridiculous. There wasn't the least real similarity between her and Daviona. They didn't even look remotely alike.

But when she'd called him 'a special young man,' all he'd wanted to do was hide in a corner like a frightened child.

His father emerged from the bathing chamber and came to sit down across from him on the bed, his face serious. He seemed to be waiting for something, and Adam knit his brows, opening his mouth to ask him what what going on.

Then he heard a voice in his mind. _"Prince Adam?"_

"_Sorceress?"_ he replied, startled. His gut clenched, but he didn't feel in danger of breaking down. _"I'm sorry for being such a nitwit."_

"_Do not apologize, and do not call yourself names. Your reaction was perfectly natural."_

"_No, it wasn't. I know you. I know what you're like. You'd never do anything . . ." _he paused, trying to find words to describe it, then gave up, _". . . like that to anyone."_

"_You know that with your head, but you are too traumatized just now for your intelligence to be able to control your emotional responses."_

"_That's stupid!"_

"_It's normal,"_ she said. _"Many young women who are raped cannot bear the presence of men they have known all their lives. It is a normal, expected response, and I am not at all offended by it, and neither should you be ashamed of it."_

Adam bit his lip, considering what she'd said. It made a lot of sense. That didn't stop the sick feeling of shame in his gut, though. _"I can't go on feeling like this," _he said.

"_We will work through it, but it may take some time. In the meantime, there are some things I need to do to check your condition. There are spells on you and magical potions in you. Both those issues must be addressed before too much longer."_

Adam nodded. _"I know. How can we deal with that, though?"_

"_There are several possibilities. One is that we simply hope that you, now prepared for this reaction, will not suffer so greatly if I return."_ The prince grimaced. _"Another is that I do some of the checking while you're asleep and unaware of my presence."_ He felt his skin crawl at this notion.

"_I'd rather be aware, if it's all the same,"_ he said.

"_I thought you'd feel that way," _she replied. _"A very limited possibility is that I come to you as Zoar and do some of my diagnostics in that form. The trouble is that the form limits my magical abilities significantly."_

"_Can I talk to my father for a minute and think about it?"_

"_Of course."_

He felt her mind withdraw and he looked over at his dad. "Did she call you?"

The king nodded. "She suggested that she try talking to you from a distance and see if it gave you difficulties."

"It seems to be okay," Adam said. "But she needs to come here and see me." His father nodded. "She thinks it might be easier for me now that I'm aware of the potential problem, I'll be able to control it better. Do you think that makes sense?"

His father nodded. "She suggested the same thing to me. I think it's a good idea." Adam bit his lip. He felt tense all over. His father reached out and took his hand. "I'll be here."

Adam nodded, gulping. "I know. I just feel so stupid about it. I know I don't have to, but I do."

"I know," his father replied. "And all I can say is to repeat, there's no reason to feel stupid."

"_Adam, have you come to a conclusion?"_ the Sorceress asked suddenly.

Gritting his teeth, Adam nodded. Then he remembered that she wasn't in the room with him. _"Yes, Sorceress. Come ahead."_

"_I'll be there soon."_

Adam looked down at his hands and then up again at his father's face. "She says she'll be here soon." He shivered slightly. "She's never actually done any magic on me before. I'm not sure how this will work."

His father raised an eyebrow. "I'm glad to hear that. Did you expect her to cast magic on you?"

Adam shook his head. "No, I just . . . I don't know what it will be like.

"She seems a gentle and generous lady, Adam. I'm sure you'll be fine."

There was a knock on the outer door and Adam jumped in startlement. He flushed, knowing that it had to be the Sorceress. Dorgan got up and went to the door and Adam took a deep breath to calm his roiling emotions.

* * *

Randor could tell how tense Adam was, but he wasn't sure what he could do about it. He scooted closer and put his arm around his son's shoulders. "It will be all right."

Adam nodded, his jaw clenched. Randor wished he could erase the pain, but there was nothing he could do but offer comfort.

Dorgan walked in with the Sorceress and he could feel Adam gulp. "Hi," he said tautly.

"Hello, Prince Adam," she said in her mellifluous voice. "How are you feeling?"

Adam shrugged. "Okay. Tired."

"Do you mind if we move out into the sitting room?"

"Sure," Adam said with alacrity, but he didn't move. Randor raised an eyebrow at the woman who nodded and left the room. After a moment, Adam shifted off the bed and stood up. Randor looked at him. "It's not as bad," he said slowly. "But I hate this."

Dorgan walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "One of the surest ways to deal with this sort of phobia is to face it directly."

Adam dredged up a grin, and his father reflected again that it was ludicrous for anyone to think that Adam was a coward. He had faced so much horror and still standing, still trying. He-Man couldn't do so much. He got off the bed and smiled down at his son.

"Are you ready?"

Taking a deep breath, the boy nodded and they went out into the sitting room. The Sorceress was standing across the room and she had taken two of the straight back chairs from the table and placed them so that one was a quarter turn from the other.

Adam paused as they crossed the threshold, then started forward again. Randor could feel the tension in his shoulders.

"Prince Adam, come sit down here," she said, touching one of the chairs. "And your father can sit here."

Adam nodded and walked toward the chair, shifting out from under his father's arm. Randor walked with him, but it was clear that Adam was still feeling embarrassed by his earlier and current reactions. He didn't speak, he just walked over and sat down, his body practically humming with tension. Randor followed and sat down next to him, their knees touching.

The Sorceress was standing between the chairs. "I'm going to move to stand behind you and put my hands on your shoulders. Then you'll feel warmth surround you and you may be able to see a blue glow. Is that all right?"

Adam nodded tensely and she did as she had said she would. Randor watched in fascination as she closed her eyes and seemed to look inward. Adam's eyes closed slowly, and his breathing slowed down. Randor bit his own lip while he watched. There was nothing to see, and the time seemed to drag by.

Dorgan walked up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, standing as a silent support. Finally, the Sorceress blinked and opened her eyes. A moment later, Adam did, too. He seemed calmer now, though when she took her hands off his shoulders he jumped.

"There are a number of spells on you," she said, walking around to stand in front of Adam. Dorgan walked over and picked up a stool for her to take a seat. The Sorceress smiled her thanks and seated herself.

Adam grimaced. "What spells?" he asked. "What did she do to me?"

Randor leaned forward, eager to hear her answer. The Sorceress pursed her lips. "The glyph on your back is the most worrisome," she said. "I don't know how much you've been told about it."

Adam blinked, and Randor reached out a hand to squeeze his shoulder. "I wasn't sure he was ready to hear about it at the time, and I haven't said anything since," he said. "I'm sorry, Adam."

His son looked up at him, seeming very alarmed. "I know it's supposed to keep me from aging," he said, turning to the Sorceress. "And that Orko didn't know for sure how to remove it. What else is there to know?"

"The energy powering this glyph comes partly from your own life force, the energy that causes your body to work." Adam nodded, and Randor felt again as if he wanted to punch things. "It's been carefully wound around your heart and lungs, so that if anyone were to try and remove it, it could damage those organs or stop them altogether."

Randor looked at Adam's face. His expression had gone completely blank, but his father could see that he was thinking furiously. "Does that mean you can't remove it?" he asked after a few moments.

"No, it just means that it will be complicated."

Adam nodded. "So, I will get back to aging normally?" he asked. Randor was mildly alarmed by the incredible calm he was displaying. The Sorceress nodded. The king couldn't read her expression, but he suspected that she was as alarmed as he was.

"Adam, are you all right?" he asked. His son turned to him with an odd look in his eyes, and Randor grimaced. "Stupid question. What are you thinking?"

"Just that she must have wanted to keep me very badly," Adam said. "She set it up so that even if I were rescued she'd have a good chance of being able to retrieve me before you could remove that spell."

Randor stood up, going behind his son, he put his hands on his shoulders. "You'll be fine, and she's not retrieving you."

Adam didn't move, he sat silently, and Randor was worried. The Sorceress' eyes grew anxious as well, and she stood up, walking over to Adam. She knelt in front of him, gazing up into his eyes. Randor could feel him tense slightly under his hands and squeezed his shoulders lightly.

"Adam, I would never allow her to keep you," the Sorceress said. Randor opened his mouth, but didn't speak. He didn't think much of that as a reassurance, but Adam's shoulders relaxed somewhat. "I plan to shield you from her attack, and to place a beacon on you that will permit me to find you should she, against all odds, succeed in carrying you away."

"Thank you," Adam said. "But if it's something she'd see, something she'd notice . . ."

"She'd remove it first thing," the Sorceress said, nodding. "But it won't be. It will be something subtle, something I can pinpoint because I know its there. Something that will show through any shielding she can try to place around you."

Adam nodded, and he leaned forward to take her hand and squeeze it. She stood and pulled him to his feet, and very slowly, giving him plenty of time to object, gave him a tight hug. Adam stiffened, but he did not pull away. He rested his head on her shoulder and hugged her back.

Very softly, she said, "And if I have anything to say about it, she will pay dearly for hurting you." Randor saw Adam's arms tighten around her, and he moved the chair, stepping forward to put his hand on his son's back. After a few moments, she pulled away and looked into Adam's eyes again. "You are very much loved, Adam, by your friends and family. Never allow yourself to think otherwise."

Randor wondered, from the sudden stillness in his son's frame, if she'd just inadvertently activated the suggestibility that Daviona had built into his mind. A moment later, he was sure that it had, because Adam turned and hugged him tightly. He looked up at the Sorceress, who seemed puzzled.

"Eye contact can initiate a certain portion of the conditioning that Daviona put on him," he said softly. "We discovered that with Marlena yesterday."

"Oh dear," the Sorceress said.

"It's okay," Adam said, his voice muffled.

"Is that what happened?" Randor asked.

Adam nodded. "But it's okay," he said again. "It doesn't hurt me, and I can tell when it happens." He drew back from the hug and stepped out from between them, walking over to one of the chairs by the window. "You said there were a number of spells on me. What else?"

Randor and the Sorceress joined him. "Most of the other spells are part of the drugs. She has a beacon of her own on you, which I can disable without too much difficulty. Grayskull's walls have disrupted it for the moment."

* * *

Evil-Lyn walked into the throne room. Skeletor sat high atop his throne, eyes fixed on nothing, brooding. No doubt he was deeply mired in some self-pitying contemplation. She paused at the back of the room, waiting for him to acknowledge her or not. When he was moody like this, it was best to stay away unless requested.

"My dear Evil-Lyn, why are you skulking back there?" he asked, an aura of menace hovering in his tone.

_Splendid . . . he's in one of _those_ moods._ She walked forward and said, "I have news regarding the reason Prince Adam is in Grayskull."

"How simply marvelous," he said as she approached. "You have news about the puling prince. I want He-Man!"

Evil-Lyn's eyes narrowed. "If you're not interested, I could simply keep it to myself."

"Very amusing," he said in a tone that made it abundantly clear that he was not at all amused. "Do tell."

She smiled at him, concealing her irritation. "Prince Adam was magically attacked by Daviona twice within the last forty-eight hours. Since they could not shield him in the palace, they moved him to Grayskull."

"I see," Skeletor said. "In what way did she attack him? I was under the impression that her magic was not of that caliber."

Evil-Lyn raised her eyebrows. "She drained him of energy," she said. _Just how much does he know about Daviona?_ she wondered.

"As an attack?" he asked.

"Not precisely," Evil-Lyn replied. "She was pulling power."

"Indeed?" Skeletor leaned towards her, resting his elbows on his knees. "How very interesting. She pulled power, yet he's alive? Do you know how much she got?"

"It's hard to be certain," she said. "I have looked insofar as I am able."

"Just how much power does the boy have?" he asked, eyes narrowing.

Evil-Lyn pursed her lips. "Again, it's difficult to be certain, but an enormous amount. He is a veritable storehouse of magical power."

Skeletor grew very still. "Is he?" he asked. "You're not certain how much, though?"

"All I have to go on is how much energy was left in the environment nearly forty hours later," Evil-Lyn said. "Given that he's not dead, and the rate at which such power absorbs into the natural environment, that means he has a truly tremendous amount of power innate within him."

Skeletor didn't respond immediately. He sat quietly in his throne, expressionless for so long that Evil-Lyn began to wonder what he was thinking about. What plot was he hatching?

Finally he stirred and looked down at her. "Thank you, my dear Evil-Lyn, for the information. Now leave me."

She nodded deferentially and backed out of the throne room. _What is he planning, and when is he going to drag me into it?_


	20. New Power Source

**Chapter 20 – New Power Source**

Marlena stared out over the castle courtyard. The masters were gathered in small groups, the teams that Duncan had told her of when he'd reported on their meeting. It seemed wrong for Adam not to be among them, and their grim looks told her that they agreed.

She wished that she could accompany them. It sounded as if having women along would be a benefit, but as Randor's regent in his absence, she did not really have that option. What she _could _do was offer words of encouragement and gratitude, both for their past efforts to recover Adam and for what they intended to do now.

Descending the stairs, she walked towards the nearest group, which consisted of Mekanek, Roboto and Sy-Klone. They appeared to be deep in discussion, but when she came nearer, Mekanek looked up and stood. "Your highness," he said, "what can we do for you?"

"I just wanted to express my gratitude for all the work you've done in this situation," Marlena started, but Mekanek's grin stopped her. "Yes, Mekanek?"

"We all love Adam, too, Marlena."

She felt her eyes burning with tears that she didn't dare shed. "Please find that vicious monster," she said, her voice shaking slightly.

Mekanek looked into her eyes, seeming startled. He put a hand on her arm. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he said softly, guiding her away from the others. "Are you all right?"

"I'm holding up," she said. "It's not easy." Having Randor and Adam both gone was never easy on her. At least on this occasion she knew they were together and in a well-protected place, but Skeletor had already attacked Grayskull once just since they'd arrived.

Mekanek grimaced. "That woman has a lot to answer for," he said. "If there is anything you need, Marlena, please let me know. I'm not a bad shoulder to cry on, either."

She smiled. "Thank you, Mek. How are you doing? This whole thing must be bringing up difficult memories for you."

He nodded. "It is, but the fact that you got Adam back makes me happier than you can possibly know." He looked away, over her shoulder, into the distance. "No one deserves to lose a child like that." Marlena felt her eyes tear again. "He seemed very much himself when I saw him today. And Randor was being overprotective."

The tears started to roll down her face. "Mekanek, we are incredibly lucky to have you for a friend," she said, hugging him impulsively. "You're so generous of spirit."

He flushed. "Don't be silly," he said. "I love Adam." He put a hand on her arm. "I won't deny being envious of your good fortune, but that doesn't mean I can't share in the joy of his recovery."

"Thank you," she said. "And I grieve for your loss, to this day."

He hugged her back. "Thank you, Marlena," he said, his voice choked with tears. "That means a great deal." When he drew back, he looked away, clearly embarrassed by his own emotional reaction, so Marlena decided on a change of subject.

"So, you saw him today?" she asked, feeling a bit of envy of her own. "The Sorceress let you all inside Grayskull?"

He grinned. "No, not exactly. I stuck my head in the window. I mean, I'm sure the Sorceress had to allow it to happen, but she didn't let us in. I saw him and Stratos saw him. He seemed a little tentative, but very much himself, as I said."

"I'm glad to hear it." She smiled. "Do you know yet if you're going out searching tomorrow?"

"I think Duncan will announce that at breakfast tomorrow morning," he said. "We are the only team without a sense of smell, though, and I'm not sure what that means in terms of our deployment."

Marlena nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps he plans to give you some Qadian or Andrenid members of the guard to help."

Mekanek brightened slightly. "You're right. I was afraid he was going to leave us home to guard because of that." He flushed again. "Not that guarding the country isn't worthwhile, but I really want to be part of this search."

Duncan walked up to them. "Marlena, how are you?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said, smiling. "Mekanek was just telling me about seeing Adam today." Duncan nodded absently. He'd already given her a full report on his visit to Grayskull that morning. His news had been less wholly positive than Mekanek's but he'd spent more time with Adam.

"I've called in the members of the guard I'm assigning to help with the search," he said. "I plan to hold a large meeting tomorrow morning for everyone involved in the search, and I thought you might want to attend, my queen."

She nodded. "Thank you, I do."

"It will be early. I want us all to get started as early as possible."

"I'm glad to hear it," Marlena said. "The sooner that monster is caught, the sooner Adam can feel safe." She turned her attention to the other masters who were now watching them. "Thank you all. I know you don't need my thanks, that you would do what you are doing in any case, but . . . thank you." They all looked seriously at her, and she felt the tears building up again. _What's wrong with me? I'm usually much more in control than this._

Buzz Off took a step forward. "Adam is one of us," he said simply. "What she did to him, she did to us all."

"Well said," Man-E-Faces agreed, walking up and putting a hand on the Andrenid's shoulder. "We'll find her, your highness." He paused, and his eyes narrowed. "She will be dealt with."

Marlena smiled, but she could feel the tears rising closer to the surface. "Thank you," she said again, and nodding to them, took a dignified exit. A moment after she was inside the palace again, Teela caught up with her. "Are you all right?" she asked. "Is there anything I can do?"

"You're doing it, dear," Marlena said, reaching up to cup her face in her hand. "Just promise me you'll be careful."

Teela flushed. "Of course, your highness," she said, and Marlena sighed. The girl's pride was so prickly these days.

Marlena dropped her hand to rest on Teela's shoulder. "I just know that Adam would be unhappy if you were hurt in an effort to defend him."

"I can handle myself, your highness," Teela said.

"I know, dear," Marlena replied. Teela had looked down at her feet as she spoke, and Marlena lifted her chin so that they were looking into each other's eyes. "You are a truly impressive warrior, Teela, but that doesn't mean you can't be careful."

Teela smiled tremulously. "I will be," she said. "I will be." Then she nodded her head respectfully, turned and left in the direction of the other masters. Marlena watched her go. _Children grow up,_ she thought disconsolately. _And we can't keep them safe._ Adam's condition was testimony to that fact. Fury boiled up in Marlena's breast, without outlet.

She took several deep breaths to master herself. Neither fury nor grief was of benefit to her just now. When she had her emotions decently under control, she walked through the palace to take her seat at the high table for dinner. The people had to know that their monarchs were still aware of the kingdom. Marlena wished, not for the first time, that she was a common soldier's wife, without the scrutiny and responsibility that went with being queen.

* * *

Teela woke early the next morning and hurried down to the meeting. There could be no delay today. She wouldn't stand for it. If Skeletor attacked someone today, she'd go . . . go . . . Shaking her head, she walked into the room where the masters and other searchers were meeting.

They all turned as she entered but sighed when they saw it was her. Her father hadn't arrived yet. She walked over to sit down with Manny and Stratos.

"Good morning, Captain Teela," Stratos said. "Did you sleep well?"

She shook her head. "Nightmares," she said shortly. The Avion nodded sympathetically. "Is everyone here besides my father?"

"Your father and the queen have not arrived yet," Stratos replied.

Teela nodded and bit her lip. She was anxious to get out and start looking.

The door opened and her father entered with the queen. Marlena stopped just inside the door, but Man-at-Arms walked right up to the front of the room.

"Good morning," he said. "I think we had best get straight to work. You all know which teams you're assigned to. I want Teela's team to stay here at the palace." Her fists clenched. She was on _guard_ duty? "My team will take the city, and Mekanek's will take the countryside." He looked over them all. "In three days we will switch off. I don't want anyone getting complacent about their duties."

Teela took a deep breath, trying to conceal her frustration. She wanted to be out there searching immediately, but she couldn't show that. It would be extremely inappropriate.

"I want each team to stay in contact with the others. At least part of the team assigned to the palace should remain in the communications center, facilitating this contact." Teela nodded and listened to the rest of her father's instructions, most of which didn't currently apply to her since she wouldn't be involved in the search.

Finally, he said, "All right, let's head out." As the others all got ready to go out and start the search, Teela's team congregated around her.

She looked at the faces, most of which mirrored her own feelings. "All right, every task is important, and keeping the kingdom safe is certainly vital. I know we all wanted to go out and find that . . . that . . ."

"Vile miscreant?" Stratos suggested.

"Yes," Teela said, snorting. "That vile miscreant, but that's the way it is. I can't hope that we get our chance," she added. To the puzzled expressions on the faces that gazed at her, she explained, "I'd rather they caught her today."

"Of course," Manny said. "That would be best."

She looked around at them. She'd been assigned three male guards and two female along with Stratos and Manny. "We need to keep the communications center manned, but we also need to do some patrolling." They all nodded. She split them up into two groups of three, leaving one of the guards to come with her to the communications center. Manny took two guards and Stratos took the other two to start patrolling. Each of these smaller groups had one female. Relatively few of the guards were women, so she wanted to be sure everyone got used to working with women before they were out in the field after Daviona. She might prefer that the witch be caught the first day, but it seemed unlikely.

Teela headed into the communications center with Ivan, one of the guardsmen. She acquainted him with the equipment and then started pacing.

After awhile, Ivan said, "Have you seen the prince?"

Teela stopped and looked at him. "Yes, I have."

"How badly off is he?" the guardsman asked. "There haven't been any announcements except to say that he had been found and was unwell."

Grimacing, Teela walked over and sat down in the chair next to him. "I'm not sure what I can tell you," she said honestly.

"Why has no one been permitted to see him?" he asked. Teela raised an eyebrow. "I only ask because there are rumors that he's dying or desperately ill."

Teela blinked. "I can tell you that he's not dying," she said. "But I'm not sure what information the king and queen plan to release. I'm sorry."

The console beeped, and Ivan pressed the button. "Nothing yet," her father's voice said. "Has the other team reported in?"

"No, sir, Man-at-Arms," Ivan said. "Do you want me to call you when they do?"

"Only if they have news. Duncan out."

Teela resumed her pacing after her father's communication, resigned to frustrating inaction.

* * *

Duncan scowled as he turned back to his team. "So far nothing's been found," he said to Ram-Man. The master nodded disconsolately.

One of the guards, a young woman called Dreya, came walking up. "Sir, I think there may be something of interest in a tavern on the next street."

Duncan nodded and followed her. He had split the team into groups of two so they could comb the streets more effectively.

"We were walking past when we heard one of the inn staff gossiping with a neighbor," Dreya said. "Apparently a young man who's been staying at the inn for some time died in bed last night."

"What of it?" Duncan asked.

"That's what I thought, but Gorven caught my arm and listened to them talking, then started asking questions." She grimaced. "The dead man was about twenty, and very good looking according to the barmaid we were talking to. He came in last night with a very pretty woman, someone she'd never seen before."

"What did she look like?" Duncan asked.

"Brown hair, curly. The barmaid didn't see her eyes, medium height." Duncan nodded. That could be Daviona. They were approaching the inn now, The Sun and Moons. Dreya's partner, Gorven, was standing outside the tavern talking to a woman of middle years.

When Duncan arrived, Gorven looked up at him with a serious expression. "Alia, please tell Man-at-Arms what you told me."

Alia's eyes widened and she curtsied to him. Duncan shook his head. "No need for that, mistress," he said.

"Oh," she said, flushing a little. "Sorry, my lord." She cleared her throat. "Well, it happened like this. Young Ferlin came in late last night with a very pretty woman on his arm. She had to be at least thirty-five. I found m'self wondering why she was with Ferlin, who wasn't much more than a boy, but there's women as likes 'em young."

"Yes, I know," Duncan said. "Do go on."

She cleared her throat again. "Well, I goes up this morning to give him his breakfast. He's a nice boy, 'n all, I like to do for him." Duncan nodded. "So I knocked on the door, but he didn't answer. I figured he'd had a late night and might be sleepin' it off."

"What happened then?" Duncan asked.

"I waited until about noontide, then I figured that he needed some kind of sustenance, whatever he and his lady friend might still be doing. I went up again and I knocked." She shook her head. "Then I listened at the door. I know I shouldn't have done that, sir," she said, pinkening again, "but I was that worried about him, you see."

"I do see." Duncan smiled at the motherly little woman. "Please go on."

"I liked him, he was a nice boy." Her eyes were tearing up. "He hadn't no family, see, and I just liked to make things homey-like for him." Duncan nodded. "So when I heard no noise, I opened up the door, quiet-like, and peeked in." 0est pleased that I'm out here still talking, but with you all being the king's men, and you being Man-at-Arms, he's not complaining."

Duncan smiled at her. "Give Gorven the address of that healer. I'm going to go talk to the innkeeper."

The inside of The Sun and Moons was dark and aromatic. It smelled of good beer and roast beef. Duncan walked up to the bar and said, "I need to speak to the man who keeps this inn."

A large man with a dour face walked up to him. "I be he. Name's Patricas."

"I'm Duncan, the king's man-at-arms."

"I know who you be," he said. "Why're you so interested in young Ferlin's death?"

"That's a little difficult to explain," Duncan said. "Just a moment." He lifted his com unit to his lips. "Ivan?"

"Yes Man-at-Arms?" the voice crackled over the unit.

"Please send Orko out here. I need him."

"Of course, Man-at-Arms."

That done, Duncan turned back to Patricas. "I will need access to Ferlin's body. It appears that his death may have some connection to a matter we're investigating on behalf of King Randor."

"I always knew as that boy was up to no good," Patricas said.

Duncan shook his head. "No, as a victim, not a perpetrator," he explained.

Patricas seemed to have some difficulty with this notion, but Duncan shook his head. "I'm not at liberty to discuss details. May I have access to the room?"

"Just as you like," Patricas said. "It's upstairs, first door on the left."

"Thank you, Duncan said. He turned to Ram-Man. "Stay down here," he said in an undertone. "When Orko comes, send him right up."

"But, Man-at-Arms," he said. "You said we should never go anywhere alone."

Duncan opened his mouth irritably, then closed it again. Dreya, Gorven and Alia were coming in. The barmaid was still crying and Dreya had an arm around her shoulders. Duncan walked over. "Will you two stay here, and when Orko comes, let him know I've gone up to Ferlin's room?"

"Of course, Man-at-Arms," Gorven said.

"And can one of you get in touch with Buzz Off and get him here?" They nodded and Duncan turned to go upstairs, Ram-Man right behind him. The door was closed, and a white handkerchief was tied around the doorknob, presumably some sort of marker.

Duncan reached out and opened the door. The various smells of death hit him, and he wondered when the constables would show up. It was clear that the healer had been uncertain about this death, for the body had not been cleaned.

Ram-Man had stayed in the hall. Duncan heard someone talking to him as he walked toward the body. "Excuse me?"

"Yes, Constable?" Ram-Man said.

_On cue,_ Duncan thought. He turned and went to the door.

"What are you doing here? This is a local crime. Why are the king's men here?"

Duncan came out the door. "Hello, Constable. I'm Duncan, the King's man-at-arms."

The constable nodded. "Patricas said you were up here. I still want to know why. What's your interest in this situation?"

"It's difficult to explain, and I'm not discussing it in a public hallway," Duncan said. "The only good place to talk about it right now is in here," he added, gesturing at the room containing the dead young man.

The constable followed him in. He was a tall, husky man with dark blond hair. He paled slightly upon seeing the dead boy, but he didn't pause. "Now, what's going on? Why do we have the king's guards all over Trokan?"

"You are aware that the prince was kidnapped, correct?" Duncan asked.

"I had heard," the man said. "Is this related?" He looked over at the pathetic body. "How could this possibly be related?"

"It's a long, complicated story, not all of which I'm at liberty to discuss, but it may be related." Duncan looked down at the boy. "Adam's kidnapper has not been caught, and the woman who was seen with this young man last night resembled her."

"I see," the constable said, his brow furrowed as he looked down at the boy on the bed.

"Would you mind telling me your name?"

The man's eyes widened. "Oh, hell, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm Dryker. You thinking this is murder? Our healer seemed to think there was something odd about it."

"Yes, I think it could be," Duncan replied. "I've got an expert coming in to check it out."

"Jaffrin, that's the healer, came to me and said that the body was too cold. That he wasn't even through with rigor yet, and the weather wasn't cold, but the body is cold through."

Duncan nodded. "That fits," he said. "That fits all too well." He looked around the room. The boy's effects all seemed to be in place. "What did Ferlin do for a living?" he asked.

"He was a scribe," Dryker said. "He wrote stories and poems. People said they were good, I never really looked. I guess he got paid pretty regular, though. And when the money wasn't coming in, he'd find himself a woman with money and make friends with her."

"I see," Duncan said dryly.

"He was a good kid, far as I can see," Dryker said hastily. "Never in trouble with the law, never made any kind of fuss."

"No judgements here," Duncan replied. "That just would have made it easier for her to prey on him," he explained.

"What exactly did she do?" Dryker asked.

Duncan pursed his lips. "I don't want to commit myself until my expert gets here. In the meantime, does it look to you like anything's been taken?"

Dryker looked around. "No. The place is uncommon neat, though, for what I would expect of someone of the artistic temperament."

Duncan shrugged. "Artistic temperaments come in all kinds as well, I'd guess. We could ask Alia. She'd probably know if this is what his room usually looked like."

"I wouldn't want to bring her in on this," Dryker said, looking down on the body. "Finding it was quite enough."

"I meant after the body was gone," Duncan agreed. There was a knock on the door and then it opened.

Orko came flitting in. "Yes, Man-at-Arms? You sent for me?" He looked around the room, and saw the dead boy. His eyes grew round, and he clutched a hand to his mouth, making a strangled sound of horror.

Duncan walked over and gripped his arms. "What is it, Orko?" he asked. "What do you see?" The door closed, and Duncan was grateful to Ram-Man for thinking when he wasn't. "Orko?"

The Trollan was trembling. "It was . . . she killed him . . . she drained him so dry that he had nothing left."

"Are you all right, Orko?" Duncan asked.

"It's so horrible," he said, his voice shaking. "It was . . . I think I'm going to be sick!"

Duncan wondered suddenly if Trollans vomited, or if there was some other way they showed that sort of sickness. "What can I do for you, Orko?"

Orko just shook his head. He floated out of the room, eyes still fixed on the corpse. Duncan heard Ram-Man offering sympathy outside and shut the door.

"That was your expert, I take it?" Dryker asked.

"I didn't expect him to react like that," Duncan said without really considering his audience. "I should have warned him what I was showing him." He snapped back to himself. "Sorry, yes, he is the expert. You see, Ferlin was kill by magic. He . . ." Duncan gulped. "He was drained of his life force, as much as that sounds like the plot of a sensational novel."

"Does that explain the cold?"

Duncan nodded. "It does."

There was another knocking, and Buzz Off came in. His nose wrinkled immediately. "She has been here," he said flatly, hostility showing in his expression.

"I know. She killed the boy who lived here. Can you follow her trail?"

"I will try," Buzz Off said.

"Thank you," Duncan said. The Andrenid nodded shortly and left.

"This woman has a lot of people real upset, I'd say," Dryker said. "Is the prince all right? I heard he was recovered, but was sick."

Duncan nodded. "He'll be all right," he said with a confidence he didn't entirely feel. "But yes, she has made all of the masters very angry." He thought for a moment. "I think we need to take a new tactic here. Dryker, we need to get a warning out to young men, especially young men like Ferlin with no family or ties to the community. They should avoid this woman if they see her, and contact you or me if they do."

"Why would she do this?" Dryker asked, looking down at Ferlin. "What does she get out of it?"

"Magical power. I don't know what she wanted his power for, but whatever it is, it's not good."

* * *

Daviona ushered the two young men she'd ensorcelled into her home, taking them to the quarters she'd prepared for them. At the moment they were still under her direct magical control, but, while she had the ingredients for her drugs, she needed a bit of time to put them together.

In the meantime, the two young gentlemen could enjoy her hospitality in locked rooms. It was going to take time to train them properly, but she could, at least, begin drawing power from them. And when she had enough, she could bring more into the fold. She could rebuild.

It was a shame she'd had to draw so much power from that handsome writer. He'd been such a delightful morsel.

She walked into her lab and set to work, creating the drugs that would bind her new young men to her.


	21. Missing Man

**Chapter 21 – Missing Man**

Teela left Ivan manning the communications room and went to find the queen. She needed to know what had happened. Her own emotions were twisting wildly. Daviona had killed someone. How was Adam going to take it?

When she reached the door to the royal office, she paused, taking a deep breath. How was Marlena going to take it? Teela still wasn't sure how she herself was taking it.

She knocked on the door and heard the queen call, "Come." Opening the door she walked in to find the queen wading through piles of paperwork. The king's secretary was nearby, helping her. The queen took one look at Teela's face and said, "Jenkins, I'll call for you later."

He bowed and left. Marlena stood up and took Teela over to the window seat, sitting down with her. "What on Eternia has happened?"

Teela took in a deep breath, and discovered that tears were threatening. "Daviona killed a young man," she said finally. "He was found in Tronak."

The queen paled and Teela put her arm around her shoulders. "Father's put out a warning to all young men in the region to avoid her, and report her if they see her."

"But it was too late for one," Marlena said in a colorless voice. "And I wonder how many others."

"You don't think she . . ." Teela shook her head. "I'm sure she hasn't killed anyone else. Too many young men dying abruptly for no apparent reason would be too suspicious, surely."

The queen nodded. "No, I think you're right about that," she said. "But I'm afraid . . . what if she took some? I don't know how she'd manage it, but I don't know how she's managed any of it, so that wouldn't be shocking."

Teela gulped. "I hadn't thought of that. I'd better go call my father and bring it up with him in case he hasn't."

Marlena nodded and Teela ran out and down the stairs. She went into the communications center and to an auxiliary console. "Man-at-Arms, this is Teela, do you read me?"

"Yes, Teela, what is it?"

"Father, the queen just had an alarming thought I wanted to share with you. She's afraid that Daviona may have taken other young men prisoner, to use as power sources, I guess."

The words her father used in reply were not polite but they were certainly appropriate. Teela grimaced. "I just thought you'd better hear it, in case it hadn't occurred to you either."

"Thank you, Teela. I'll pass that along to the local constable, and we'll see if we can come up with any missing persons."

She nodded, then remembered that he couldn't see here. "All right. That's all I have, sir."

"Thanks. Keep me posted on any other brainstorms."

Teela punched the button that disconnected the link and then rested her head on her hands on the console. After a moment, Ivan said, "It's not the easiest thing in the world to convince a randy young man that a beautiful woman is a danger to him."

She sighed. "I suppose it's not."

"Your father might consider suggesting that she has a disease. That might be more persuasive." He shrugged. "No one wants to get sick."

Teela nodded. "Why don't you call him and suggest it?" she said.

She listened to him talking to her father and wondered who was going to tell Adam and the king. Her father probably. That was one visit she didn't want any part of.

* * *

Randor wondered how long Adam was going to sleep today. Adam hadn't wanted to talk about the spells on him after the Sorceress had left, but he also hadn't wanted to go to bed. They'd played chess several times until Dorgan had put his foot down, insisting that Adam needed to return to a reasonable sleeping schedule.

The king had taken the healer's side, and he had taken Adam to bed. The boy still hadn't wanted to sleep, so Randor had tried reading to him from one of the novels the Sorceress had left with him. It had been a startlingly pleasant experience. He'd read two chapters, and then they'd talked about the book for awhile, and then Adam had gone to sleep.

And now it was nearing noon, and Adam still hadn't woken up. Randor looked up as Dorgan came in. "Is this normal?" he said without preamble.

Dorgan blinked at him. "Is what normal, Randor?"

"He's been asleep all morning."

"He's a teenager, Randor. Of course, it's normal. Even if you never did go through the stage."

"He's actually a fairly early riser, usually," Randor said.

Dorgan nodded. "I know. This is a sign of depression, which is not unexpected after the trauma he suffered. Sleeping longer is fairly normal under these circumstances. As time goes by, it will taper off, and if it doesn't, we'll deal with it then."

Randor looked down at his somnolent son. His hair was untidily spread across his face. Gently, the king brushed the blond hair out of the way and bent to kiss his son on the forehead. He sighed. So much had changed in so short a time.

Just at that moment, Adam stirred. "I'm not asleep," he said. "I'm just not getting up yet."

The king choked, and Dorgan snorted. "Good morning, boy," the healer said. "How did you sleep?"

Adam sat up and stretched. "Okay," he said. "I don't think I had any bad dreams." Randor didn't contradict him, but he'd soothed his son out of two nightmares during the night, one of which had been fairly violent.

Dorgan seemed to catch Randor's expression, but he didn't say anything. "I'd like to give you a bit of an exam today. Come along into the other room. We'll leave your father to bathe and such."

Randor nodded. A bath sounded very good right now. Adam hugged him and went out. The king took his time about bathing, trying to relax himself. He couldn't do Adam any good if he was as taut as a bowstring himself.

They spent a relaxing afternoon, all told. When Adam came out of the exam room with Dorgan he was laughing, and the three of them played a game of cards in which Adam repeatedly won all their chips. Where that boy had gotten such a poker face, Randor wasn't sure, but he was very good at keeping things to himself.

Adam had gone to the privy when there was a sudden knock at the door. Randor stood and opened it, startled to see Duncan. He had such a sober expression that the king grabbed his arm and dragged him inside. "What's happened?" he demanded quietly.

"Daviona is drawing power from elsewhere," Man-at-Arms said. "She killed a twenty-year-old man in Tronak, and we're trying to locate three or four young men that may have gone missing."

Randor took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but his anger was almost impossible to control. "Did you get warnings out, now?" he asked. His friend blanched, and Randor realized that he'd phrased that badly. "I didn't think of it either, Duncan, I'm not blaming you."

"Well, I am," his man-at-arms muttered. "I should have thought of it. I didn't even think past the death. Marlena's the one who suggested we look for missing persons. Unfortunately, the sort of young men she's likely to take are the sort who disappear without a moment's notice, which makes it harder to be certain. Buzz Off is trying to trace her, but her scent is too mingled with the city's normal traffic to make it easy."

Randor nodded. He was utterly devastated, and he had no idea how Adam was going to take this news. Dorgan would probably say they shouldn't shield it from him, but . . . as the old healer emerged from the bedroom, Randor beckoned him over.

"We've just gotten some news," he said. "Daviona has killed someone." Dorgan's eyes widened, and they all heard a gasp from the other doorway.

"She did what?" Adam asked, his voice breathless.

Randor ran to his son's side, but when he got there he didn't know what to say so he just took him into his arms.

Adam pulled away slightly, though and looked at Duncan. "Who did she kill?"

"A young man called Ferlin. He was a writer of stories and poems." Duncan grimaced. "He was drained of energy completely."

Adam shuddered. "By sex? Sex magic?"

"So it seems," Duncan said. "Orko was nearly made ill by being in the same room with the poor boy's body."

This seemed to pull Adam out of his distress. "Is he okay?" he asked. "Orko's so . . ."

"I left him with Ram-Man who seemed to be doing a good job of comforting him. I made a grave error there, I'm afraid. I didn't warn him what he was walking in on."

"Rammy's good with Orko," Adam said. "He'll be fine." He seemed to be trying to reassure himself more than the others, and Randor squeezed his shoulders. _How like Adam to be thinking of others, _he thought.

"Yes, I think he will," Duncan said. "We'd have a lot less information without Orko's help this time," he said. "I've never seen him so driven."

Adam sighed. "I want things back to normal," he said. "I want to see my friends and be able to work with the masters. I want to not have freaky reactions to people I like." Randor opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, his son went on. "And if wishes were fishes . . ."

Randor snorted and answered an old family saying. "Cringer'd be happy."

Duncan let out a bark of laughter. "And I'd be running!"

Adam's eyes widened and Randor turned in surprise. Then Adam started laughing loudly. "I wasn't thinking about fish quite _that_ large, Man-at-Arms."

Duncan chuckled. "I haven't gone fishing since then. Too much sympathy for the bait."

They all started laughing at that, but Adam sobered quickly. "What about this young man's family?" he asked.

Duncan shook his head. "True to form, she selected someone without family. He was alone, writing his stories and finding people to help him pay his rent." Randor raised an eyebrow, and Duncan nodded very slightly. _Ah, so that's how she caught him._ "We've sent out a warning with a picture that there's a woman in the region who is likely to approach young men for sex." Randor nodded. "It also says that she has an illness that is transmitted by bodily contact, and that people should avoid her and contact authorities if they do see her."

Randor blinked. "Really? That's . . . creative."

Chuckling again, Duncan said, "Yes, well, it was one of the guardsmen who thought of it. If we just said she was dangerous, he said, most young men would think they could handle themselves against a slightly built woman. Illness they're more likely to avoid."

"That'll piss her off," Adam said, his eyes dancing with glee. Then his expression darkened with something akin to pain. "Unless she's already gotten what she needs."

That silenced them all, and Randor squeezed his son's shoulders. "We'll catch her, Adam. We will."

* * *

Duncan reflected that, of them all, Adam was the most likely to know what any possible current captives were going through. He didn't really want to have to ask him about it though. With any luck, they would find the young men who might be missing, and their warnings would prove sufficient to keep any others out of danger.

After they'd found the dead man, he'd called Mekanek's team in from the countryside for the rest of the day so that they could comb the city for possible missing persons more efficiently. The master had suggested sending the rest of his team in but keeping one of the Andrenids with him and canvassing the smaller villages.

Duncan had agreed to this proposal and then, leaving Ram-Man with Dryker, he had gone to acquaint the king with the current situation.

Now he returned to Tronak and to Patricas' inn, which they had determined to use as headquarters. Patricas had been none too thrilled until Duncan had informed him that they would be paying standard rates on the rooms upstairs, at which point he'd started offering beverages to all and sundry. Duncan had put the nix on alcohol on duty and left the others to put together some sort of an arrangement.

It was late afternoon when he entered the inn again. There were a couple of guards inside with locals, clearly interviewing them. Duncan walked across the room and sat down at the bar, thinking hard. One of the guards, a Qadian called Felinar, walked up.

"Man-at-Arms, sir?" he said.

Duncan turned to him. "Yes, Guardsman Felinar?"

"Mekanek has called. He said he tried to call you but could not get through. He wishes you to join him in the village of Yalin. Apparently there have been sightings there, and he said that you should hear some of it from . . ." The Qadian paused, clearly someone uncomfortable with Mekanek's phrasing. "He said 'from the horse's mouth.'"

"I see." Duncan nodded, and the Qadian, message passed, returned to the table that was clearly making up the headquarters 'desk.' Evidently he was manning it. Pulling his comlink of his belt, Duncan stood up and called Mekanek.

"Man-at-Arms, good," Mekanek said. "You need to come out here right away. I think I may have a line on a missing young man, and the news isn't good."

Duncan asked for exact directions and, letting Felinar know where he was going, went back out to his sky sled and took off.

Mekanek was waiting for him in the town square. "Thanks, Man-at-Arms, this is getting a little out of my depth. I'm getting a lot of questions I don't have any answers for."

"What have you found out?"

"Well, first of all, Daviona has defintely been here. Digger, the Andrenid I paired up with, says that her scent is definitely here, and besides, I've had six different people say they saw her."

"So much for keeping a low profile."

"Evidently, she made a minor spectacle of herself yesterday, nearly falling over her own feet in the middle of the street."

"So what's this about a young man?"

"That's where it gets complicated." Mekanek stroked his chin. "His name is Sanviro, and he drifted into town a couple of years back. He got a job with the local tanner, and has been viewed very positively for an outsider in a small town. He's about seventeen or so, no one was absolutely certain."

"I see," Duncan said. "He could fit our template. Go on."

"Well, he and one of the local girls have started a romance, one of those heady adolescent things, you know the way me and Vera were for awhile. Pure melodrama." Duncan nodded for him to continue. He remembered very clearly how Mekanek and his wife had been when they were young. Not that they had ever been old together. "They had a fight yesterday morning, during which Romily said she never wanted to speak to him again." Mek grimaced. "So then yesterday afternoon, Daviona shows up and is seen talking to Sanviro, who left town with her."

"Hell," Duncan growled. "Stupid kids!"

"Yeah," Mekanek agreed, "but here's the really creepy thing. A kid, a goatherd, saw them as they left town. He said that Sanviro didn't look like himself at all, that he looked like the way the stories say that zombies look."

Duncan grit his teeth on what he wanted to say. "What did you tell them?"

Mekanek sighed. "I had already told them that she was a wanted criminal, and that she was dangerous when it came out that Sanviro had left town with her. Romily was in the room, so the whole ridiculous tale came out and she burst into tears, weeping and wailing, saying she'd driven her love – yes, she did say her love – into another woman's arms and mortal peril."

"Elders alive!" Duncan groaned. "And you want me to talk to her, don't you?"

"Um, yeah, that was kind of the idea," Mekanek admitted. When Duncan gave him a furious glare, he wilted slightly. "I don't know what to tell them," the master protested. "I'm getting a lot of questions about what's likely to have happened to him, and I have no idea what I'm allowed to say."

"Not much," Duncan replied. "And that's a lousy excuse." He bit his lip, considering how best to handle the situation. "I doubt very much that she'll kill him."

"I'm sure that would reassure Romily greatly," Mekanek said.

"But what she's likely to be doing with him wouldn't," Duncan growled. "And I can't really tell them any more than you have."

"Ah, but you see, you have the authority to say that. I can say that, but it lacks the ring of . . . of, well, of authority."

"Thank you, Mekanek." He followed the master into the tea room, where he found that there were a number of people waiting, one of whom was a young woman who had clearly been crying, no doubt Romily.

She leapt to her feet and ran across to him, clutching at him. "Sir, has she killed him? Is he dead? Have I killed my one and only true love?"

Duncan gulped, and looked up at the others. A man came forward from the crowd and took Romily by the shoulders, detaching her gently. "Let the man speak, Romi," he murmured in her ear.

"There isn't much I can tell you," he said firmly. "As Mekanek said, the woman you met is a criminal and very dangerous. But her targets are young men in their midteens through early twenties. If she returns to town, please report it, but do not interfere with her. We don't know for certain what she'll do." Pulling out one of several specialized comlinks he'd created for just such an occasion, he looked around for the mayor. A stern-looking woman of about fifty came forward and took it. After explaining how to use it, he said, "There will be someone to receive calls from that device all the time."

"Thank you," the woman said. "What about Sanviro? What's likely to happen to him?"

"I can't really answer that question right now." He paused, considering. "May I speak with you privately, Mayor . . ."

"Marlita," she supplied. "My house is this way. We can talk in my office there."

As he passed, he leaned over to Mekanek. "Get them all to go home, why don't you? You took their statements, right?"

"I did."

"Then send them home. But tell Romily's father I may want to talk to him later."

Mekanek nodded, and Duncan followed Marlita out of the tea room and across the square. She took him into her kitchen, where there was a desk that was overflowing with papers. She nodded to him to sit down at the kitchen table, so he did. "We're not likely to be overheard or interrupted in here?"

"No. No one comes in here much," she said. "I hold meetings at the local tavern."

Duncan nodded. "This is a very delicate and confidential conversation we'll be having. You mustn't discuss it." She murmured assent, so he went on. "This woman is wanted for the abduction of Prince Adam." Marlita's eyes widened and she leaned closer, listening intently. "She is a wizard and a chemist, so she is doubly dangerous, and I'm quite serious about not interfering with her. There's a reason my people are going around in pairs."

"I see. And Sanviro? What does she want him for?"

"I can't give you many details, but . . ." Duncan pursed his lips. "Can I ask you a question that's really unrelated to my official business here?"

"Yes," she replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you think that this relationship between Romily and the missing boy is a strong one? I mean, did you actually expect them to marry?"

Marlita's lips twisted into a sardonic grin. "They were made for each other," she said. "The wedding is planned for the spring, and no matter how many times they fought, you could always find them three hours later discussing their future, how many children they were going to have, his plans to take the tannery over in another few years when old man Barton retires, and so forth."

Duncan grimaced. _How many lives will that bitch ruin before we find her and put her down?_

"Why do you want to know?" Marlita asked after a few moments. "Do you expect him to be killed?"

"No, I don't," he said. "Another question before I answer. What sort of man would you say Romily's father was? Can he keep things to himself?"

"Yes, he can," she said, her lips tightening to a narrow line.

He picked up his comlink again. "Mek?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Can you bring Romily's father here, and get him to leave Romily with someone else?"

"We're on our way," Mekanek said. Duncan nodded and put his comlink back on his belt.

"Man-at-Arms," Marlita said. "You're alarming me, but I don't suppose I'm going to get another word out of you till Borleon shows up, am I?"

"I'd rather say it once," Duncan said. They sat silently, but Mek arrived with Borleon after a few moments.

The man came in and nodded to his mayor. She said, "Sit down, Borleon. Man-at-Arms has some things he wants to talk to us both about regarding Sanviro."

Borleon nodded and sat down, looking nervously across at Duncan. Mekanek leaned against the wall by the door and Duncan took a deep breath.

"The woman is called Daviona, and she is a predator. She uses young men as sources of magical energy, and the way she gains this energy is by torture, both mental and physical." They looked at him with shocked eyes. "If he does return, he will –"

Mekanek cleared his throat and walked to the window. Duncan broke off, looking at him with some irritation. "Were you expecting anyone?" Mekanek asked the mayor.

She stood up and went to the window. "Elders, it's Ford."

"He should be in here if anyone is," Borleon said earnestly. "Before me for certain."

"Who is he?"

"He's the tanner, Sanviro is his apprentice. He took him in when the boy turned up two years back."

Duncan grimaced. "Yes, I suppose he'd better be in here."

Mekanek opened the door and the man came in. He was tall and vigorous, and his face was alight with worry. "What's going on? What are you doing to recover Sanviro? I demand to know!"

Marlita took his arm and led him to the table. "He's explaining, Ford. Come, sit." The man quieted and sat down with them, worrying his hands together.

Duncan began again. "The woman who took him is called Daviona, and she is a predator. She uses young men as sources of magical energy, and the way she gains this energy is by torture, both mental and physical." The two who had heard this before nodded worriedly, and Ford covered his mouth with his hand. "If he does return, he will –"

"If?" Ford exclaimed.

"We don't know all of what she may do," Duncan said. "She killed one young man in Tronak the day she took Sanviro."

Ford looked down at the table, his hands clenched tightly.

"If and when Sanviro does return, he will not be the same young man you knew."

Borleon bit his lip, then said, "Will he be mad?"

Duncan shook his head. "No, not mad and not dangerous in any way." _Dorgan won't release him if he's in that condition._ "But changed. You need to know this, Borleon, because you need to prepare your daughter for this possibility."

"He's such a nice kid," Borleon said bleakly. "A bit enthusiastic, but there's no harm in that."

"If I'd asked the Ancients for a son, I could have done no better," Ford said. "He's . . ." The man's voice trailed off.

Duncan sighed. "I know. I'm afraid I really can't tell you any more. But I thought you should be prepared for the possible problems."

Borleon nodded. "I appreciate that. Not that it will change Romily's opinion in the slightest. She'll likely become enamored of the idea of her wounded hero." Ford snorted his agreement, but didn't look up.

Mekanek pushed away from the wall and gave Duncan a 'may I' look. Duncan nodded, and the master walked up to the table. "One thing to mention to her is that, assuming we find him and assuming he's able to come back, he'll have been tortured by a woman. He may not be comfortable with Romily after that, not for awhile at any rate."

Duncan hadn't wanted to put things so grimly, but from the expression on Borleon's face, it seemed that it might have been a good thing that Mekanek did. Marlita nodded too. "It's best to be prepared," she said bleakly. "I think, though, that we had better wait until you find him and we know what his condition actually is before we talk to Romily about it. She won't have time to build up a mythos about it, and that would be all to the good."

Her father nodded. "I agree."

Ford shook his head. "Elders, I can just hear her babbling on about it." Borleon reached out and squeezed one of the tanner's hands, and Duncan was glad to see that they were good friends.

He said, "Well, that's why I wanted to talk to you. I didn't know how the girl would take the news, but I thought it wise to warn some responsible people about the potential difficulties he'll face if . . . if he's able to return."

After a few more questions which Duncan answered to the best of his ability, Borleon took Ford and left to return to his daughter. Mekanek had gone out with them. Before Duncan could leave, though, Marlita cleared her throat. He turned.

"Excuse me," she said. "I know this is probably not a proper question, but is this . . . is this what happened to Prince Adam?"

Duncan looked into her eyes, and something about her told him he could trust her. "Yes," he said. "We don't know how much Sanviro's experience will mirror the prince's, but no matter what, it's likely to take a toll on the boy."

Marlita nodded. "Thank you for talking to me so frankly. I know there's a lot you haven't told me, but I appreciate you sharing as much has you have. Will you keep us posted on your progress? He may not have been here long, but Sanviro really fit in here, and we'll miss him."

"As much as I can, yes, I will," Duncan said. "Now, I really must be going. I need to see the king and the queen."

With that they shook hands and he left. Mekanek was waiting outside and they returned to the square where Digger was waiting with the vehicles. "Mek, could you take this news to the queen for me? I need to go see Randor again."

Mekanek agreed and they both took off from the town of Yalin, Duncan reflecting that the place would undoubtedly be changed forever.


	22. Needs

**Chapter 22 – Needs**

Adam was in one of the chairs by the windows in the sitting room, his father sitting across from him. Cringer was curled up by his feet. He'd picked up one of the books the Sorceress had left for them and was trying to read it, but it was difficult to focus on anything. He felt odd and edgy, like something was missing, something he needed. He kept pausing and looking around for it, but the trouble was, he didn't know what 'it' was. His father was sitting reading across from him, and about the fifth time Adam started looking around, he said, "What is it, Adam?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I just feel like there's something I need, something I should have, but I can't figure out what it is."

Dorgan, who was working across the room, lifted his head at that, and Adam looked at him suspiciously. He was feeling rather like a lab experiment lately, with all of Dorgan's attention focused so firmly on him.

"How long have you been feeling this way?" the healer asked, ignoring Adam's mistrustful look.

"I don't know," he replied. "It's just . . . maybe the last couple of days, but it's getting worse."

"Unidentifiable cravings?" Dorgan asked.

"Yeah, I guess that's a good description," Adam said. "Why?"

"Adam, there's no need to be so surly," his father chided him.

Adam stood up. "What? I'm not allowed to be surly?" he demanded grumpily. "I suppose I'm not allowed to curse, either."

His father looked up at him, seeming perplexed, which only annoyed Adam more. "I didn't say that, Adam."

"You did!" Adam growled. "You said I couldn't be surly!"

"I meant about the cursing," the king said.

"Well, but you said I couldn't be surly. I think I'm entitled to be surly. Don't you think I'm entitled to be surly?"

"Yes, Adam," Dorgan said soothingly, "you're entitled to be surly."

"Who asked you?" Adam exclaimed, glaring at the healer. "Mind your own business, I was talking to him!" Turning back to his father, he yelled, "Forget it. There's no point in talking to either of you. You're both blind! Blind!" He turned and stomped off, his temper carrying him away.

* * *

Randor watched Adam storm off in a dither of worry. He stood up, prepared to follow him, but before he could move, Dorgan said, "Well, that's a good sign."

"It's what?" Randor asked incredulously.

"Well, if he's chafing at the restrictions you're placing on him, it does mean that some of that dependency is wearing off."

Randor nodded, trying to feel as if that were a good thing, but a moment later Adam came barrelling out of the bedroom and slammed into him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me. I'm sorry."

Putting his arms around his son, Randor reassured him as best he could. "I wouldn't leave you, Adam!" he exclaimed. "It's all right. It's fine. I love you."

They were babbling for some time, and finally, Randor managed to get Adam to sit down with him. Cringer was looking up at them worriedly, and when they were sitting on the sofa, the great cat jumped up and sat next to Adam, resting his chin on the boy's knee. Adam gradually calmed down enough to put his hand on the cat's head and just lean against his father.

Randor squeezed his shoulders, then said, "Adam, it's all right, really." The boy was gulping, and breathing heavily with the aftereffects of his sobs. Randor stroked his hair and held him close. Randor had Dorgan fetch the book he'd read to Adam the night before and he started reading aloud.

They were in the middle of the third chapter when there was a knock at the door. Since the king was rather pinned, Dorgan stood, went to the door and, opening it, stepped back.

Randor blinked to see Duncan again so soon. Adam looked up and his father could feel his shoulders tense. "She's taken someone, hasn't she?" he asked, a catch in his voice.

Duncan nodded grimly. "She has taken one young man for certain," he confirmed. "A journeyman tanner called Sanviro."

Adam buried his face in Randor's side, and the king clenched his free hand into a fist of impotent rage. "We'll find him, Adam. We'll find and free him."

"But he won't have people, he doesn't have family." Adam drew back. "If she's running true to form, he'll be alone when he comes out of there."

"No one will be alone," Randor said firmly. "I'll see to that, Adam, I assure you." His son leaned in again and Randor looked up at his friend. "Any other news?"

"No news," Duncan said. His eyes said he had a question, though, and Randor suspected it was one he didn't want to ask in front of Adam. He wasn't going to leave Adam just now, though, so he shrugged very slightly.

Casting about for a solution, he saw Duncan's gaze alight on a desk. As he started toward it, Adam looked up. "Why don't you just say it, Man-at-Arms?" the boy said, startling all three of them. "I'm not nearly as fragile now, I don't think." Duncan turned to face him, eyebrows drawn in, and Adam sighed. "I know I don't look it," he said self-deprecatingly, "but I'm getting better, less suggestible and all that. Just say whatever it is you've got to say."

Randor nodded, and Duncan put his hands behind his back, standing in a position reminiscent of parade rest. "What should I tell the soldiers who are helping in the search for Daviona?" he asked.

The king considered this carefully. What, indeed? Before he could answer, Adam spoke. "Are there young men among them?" his son asked. "Say, below twenty-five?" Duncan nodded. "Then tell them the truth. It's likely to come out to them anyway if they find her, and they should be forewarned."

"But, Adam –" Randor turned so that he was looking his son in the face. "You don't –"

Adam shook his head and looked up at Duncan. "Surely you haven't assigned anybody to this search that you wouldn't trust with a secret?"

"Of course not, Adam," Duncan said.

"Then give them the secret," Adam said firmly. "I'm not saying you should show them all the images Raon found, but tell them that I was . . . that I was raped. Tell them to be very careful what they say when they find this Sanviro, and any other young men that she might have taken. Tell them what to expect should one of them be captured and . . . used." Adam pushed himself upright. "Otherwise you're not being fair to them, or to the captives."

Randor felt a curious mixture of emotions. Pride in son, and fear for him. Shame for not seeing this necessity as clearly as Adam did, fury that this invasion of his son's privacy _was _a necessity. He didn't want anyone knowing who didn't have to, but this was – had to be – Adam's decision. It wasn't Randor's place to unmake it for him.

Duncan gulped and went on one knee before them, reaching out to clasp Adam's hand. "As you wish, my prince. You're right."

Adam smiled uncertainly down at his father's man-at-arms, then looked up at his father. "You agree?" he asked, his voice less firm, less authoritative than a moment before.

"I do," Randor said, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "And I'm proud of you."

Blinking, Adam leaned against him again. Duncan watched for a moment, then nodded. "I'd best be going now. We have an evening meeting, and I think I'd better tell them all at once."

"Tell Mom I love her," Adam said as Duncan rose to go.

"Of course, Adam," Duncan said, and Randor was surprised to see unshed tears gleaming in his old friend's eyes. "I will come by tomorrow evening to bring you up to date on the search."

Randor nodded. "Thank you, Duncan. Give my love to Marlena as well."

Duncan bowed and turned to go, only to find Dorgan standing in his path. "And from me, tell the queen she should eat more. If I know her, she's not eating enough."

Duncan laughed. "Certainly, Dorgan. Any other messages? Should I tell your wife that you love her?"

"She knows," the old healer said irritably. "Though I suppose it would do no harm for you to tell her so, if it would give you pleasure. Now run along."

Man-at-Arms left rapidly, hurrying out of the room, as if afraid they would give him yet more missives to take to far flung corners of the realm. When he was gone, Randor looked down at Adam, and brushed the hair back from his face. "I wasn't just saying that, you know," he said. "I am very proud of you." Adam flushed under the praise, and Randor smiled. "I love you, my son."

Seeming to have had enough of both praise and emotional outbursts, Adam said, "Weren't we just at the beginning of a battle scene?"

It took Randor a moment to realize what he was talking about, but he took up the book again and began to read.

* * *

Teela waited until the last of the guards and masters had filed out of the conference room and went up to the front to join her father. "Wow," she said. "I didn't know we had permission to tell them that."

He looked up as if startled to see her. A moment later, she found herself clasped tightly in his arms. "You know I love you, don't you, Teela?" he said.

"Yes, Father," she said, hugging back, then pulling away to peer into his eyes. "I love you, too. Are you all – you've been crying."

"I have, yes," he said. "I do hope that you and Mekanek are the only ones who've noticed."

He walked over and sat heavily in one of the chairs facing the podium, and she walked over to stand in front of him. "Father, what's wrong?" she asked. "What's happened?"

"Nothing more than what I told the others," he said. "I'm just not . . ." His voice trailed off and he looked up at her. "Teela, forgive me. I'm not handling this well myself."

"Who is?" she asked, feeling slightly stunned as she sank onto the chair beside him. "Adam was raped. How would you go about handling that well?" He buried his face in his hands, and Teela put her hand on his back, trying to figure out what she could – what she _should_ – say. "Father, you . . ." _What would the queen say? _Teela wondered desperately. "It's going to be –" She stopped. It wasn't going to be all right. "Things will look better in –" Shaking her head in frustration, she stopped again. The morning wasn't going to make an appreciable difference in the situation. "It's always darkest –" _Why can't I think of anything besides stupid, inapplicable platitudes?_ "Um . . . every cloud has a silver lining?" she blurted, feeling idiotic once the words were out. Her father started to shake, and Teela grew alarmed. "Father?"

He looked up and she saw that he was laughing. Feeling slightly nettled, she said, "What's funny?"

Putting an arm around her shoulders, he took one of her hands. "A daughter's eyes are sunshine in the darkest night."

She shook her head perplexedly, baffled by her father's inexplicable behavior. "I guess that last one, about silver linings, kind of applies," she said after a moment.

"It does?" he asked, looking at her with wide eyes. He'd pulled off his helmet now, and seemed more her father and less Man-at-Arms.

"Yes," she said. "For those twelve men and the two little boys, I'd say."

He nodded, comprehension dawning in his eyes. "Right." He bit his lip. "And I'm sure that Adam would see it that way, too," he said.

She flushed, embarrassed to sound as if she were saying that Adam's suffering was all right. "Well, I didn't mean it that – I didn't –" He squeezed her hand and suddenly she realized that he hadn't been being sarcastic. _Adam really does think that way._ "I guess you're right," she said, biting her lip.

"And now you know why I was crying," he said. She knit her brows, looking up at him. He cupped her face in his hand, the metal of his gauntlet chill against her skin. "You said you didn't know we had permission to tell the guards what I told them tonight." She nodded. "I didn't have permission. I was ordered, by our prince, to make sure that everyone who was involved in the search knew what we were up against, so that the young men would be prepared should they be caught, and so that everyone would be prepared to react appropriately when we find the ones who have been taken."

Teela realized suddenly that she was worrying at the end of her ponytail and let the hair go. "Why would he do that?" she asked. "I would have thought you'd have to persuade him."

Her father shook his head. "He did it because it was the right thing to do, Teela. And it never occurs to Adam not to do the right thing."

She stared at him, startled by this statement. He'd said it with the conviction of one speaking a truth long acknowledged and accepted. _But Adam runs away nearly every time there's a fight._ Teela pursed her lips thoughtfully. _And Father knows that. And he's still saying this. What does he know that he hasn't told me?_

* * *

Marlena rose early to attend the morning meeting. Duncan had come to her the night before and given her all the details on their progress as well as the messages from Adam, Randor and Dorgan. She had, in fact, rather diligently followed Dorgan's orders this morning, eating a large breakfast.

As she proceeded down the stairs, Teela emerged from one of the rooms along the hall below and waited for her. "Good morning, your highness," she said.

Marlena smiled. "Good morning, Teela. I hope you slept well last night."

Teela shook her head. "I have nightmares every night," she said. "I can't seem to avoid them. Last night it was really strange. I dreamed about Skeletor, looking through books. There was nothing scary in the dream, but I was terrified and apprehensive, like something was going to happen."

"That does sound alarming," the queen said. "Have you told your father?"

"I'm not going to bother him with my nightmares."

Marlena tilted her head. "Teela, dear, he's your father. I think he'd want to be bothered."

Teela gave the familiar, and irritating, adolescent shrug, and Marlena let it drop for now. She wasn't sure if it was anything, so she'd give Teela a chance to discuss it with her father on her own before saying something. If nothing else, if the girl wasn't getting proper sleep, it could interfere with her duties and endanger her life.

They entered the conference room together to find that they were among the last to arrive. Duncan stood at the front of the room. Nodding politely, Teela parted from her to go and join her team, and Marlena took up a place at the back of the room. Duncan gave them a brief outline of what the duties for the day would be, a few encouraging words, and then sent them out on their way. Marlena sat in the empty room for a few moments, gathering herself, then stood again. She had many duties to attend to, both her own and the king's.

She spent the morning in Randor's office, seeing to the most urgent of the paperwork. Randor's secretary, Jenkins, was triaging the matters for her, seeing to it that she only saw things that needed to be handled at the highest levels.

After duly eating lunch, which she ate hurriedly, she went downstairs to check on Raon. The boy wasn't getting out enough, and his task was incredibly stressful. He's spent the day before yesterday out of the palace, but Marlena wasn't confident that he was eating properly or getting enough rest. Quite aside from the fact that he was one of the palace guardsmen and a friend of her son's, she had known Raon's mother back when they had both been soldier's wives. Rylea had died many years back, but Marlena felt beholden to her to make sure her son was taking proper care of himself.

She knocked on the door and after a moment's silence, the panel opened. Raon looked out, eyes wide. He stepped out the door and shut it behind him. "Yes, your highness, what can I do for you?"

"When was your last meal?" she asked, knowing full well that lunch was just over.

He blinked at her. "I think I have a tray," he said. She opened the door, overriding his objections, and walked inside. There she found his workspace very neatly organized, handwritten notes carefully indexed and filed, the little transparent squares meticulously placed in racks along the walls, their codes facing outward. He was working on the table that they had removed from Daviona's burrow. Somewhat to the side of the little area he had clearly set aside for his desk space, stood a tray of lunch, chicken gone cold, vegetables under congealing cheese sauce, milk undoubtedly gone sour.

"Did you eat breakfast?" she asked.

"I had a glass of milk and some toast," he said defensively.

She pursed her lips and took him by the arm, threading hers through his so that he couldn't pull away without being rude. "You are coming with me, young man," she said. Pausing just long enough to allow him to lock the door, she marched him up to her solar where she ordered a new lunch for him.

"What are you doing, your highness?" he asked perplexedly.

"I am making you take a break for lunch, my boy," she said. He looked impatient but she held up a hand before he could object. "I want you out of that room for an hour at lunchtime every day. If I need to have you come to my solar every day, I will."

"But your highness, I need to work," he said earnestly. "I need to get this done."

She smiled at him and patted his hand. "I know you're working hard, and I know that what you're doing is important. But you're not going to get it done any faster if you wear yourself out." He looked miserable, as if she were punishing him, and she sighed. "Raon, what you're doing is extremely stressful, and that means you need to take breaks."

"It might help them catch her sooner," he said urgently.

"Raon, if you're exhausted, you'll miss things," she said.

"It is not possible to doze off while watching that," he replied, his voice hard with tension.

A servant walked in with his lunch and they were silent until the man left. When the door was shut again, Marlena leaned forward. "I wasn't suggesting that you'd fall asleep, Raon. I was suggesting that you would not be operating at your optimum level of perception. Now eat, or do I have to go to Grayskull and get an order from the king?"

Clear in Raon's eyes was the knowledge that if he forced her to do that, he could expect some serious repercussions from the king for not obeying her instructions. He bent to his food resignedly. Marlena stood up and walked to the windows, looking out towards Grayskull. She missed her husband and son intensely. She felt as if she should be with Adam, but someone had to stay behind and manage the kingdom. With Adam so definitively focused on his father, the decision had been clear. Difficult and distressing, but clear.

There was a knock on the door, and she turned. "Come?" she called.

The door opened and Orko floated in, coming straight toward her. "Hello, your highness," he said in a somber voice.

"Hello, Orko. What can I help you with?"

"I need to tell you that I may have unlocked some of the spells that are keeping the remnants of those drugs in Adam's body," he said. "Healer Sabetta said I needed to bring the news to you and let you decide how you wanted to tell the king and Man-at-Arms."

Marlena felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "I think that you and I need to go to Grayskull right now," she said happily. Orko nodded more enthusiastically, but as he turned to join her on her way out of the solar, he stopped dead, staring at Raon.

Marlena paused, looking at him uneasily. Orko's eyes were wide and he seemed, suddenly, very alarmed.

"Raon?" he asked. "Why was your memory fuzzed?"

"My memory?" Raon shook his head, looking baffled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Orko groaned. "Of course you don't," he exclaimed, grabbing his head with his hands. "That's why your memory was fuzzed, so you wouldn't remember being meddled with."

Raon looked at her with some alarm. "Do you know what he's talking about, your highness?" he asked, and he sounded as if he thought the little jester had gone mad.

"Orko, can you explain this a little more clearly?"

"Just a minute, I have one more question." She nodded and glanced at Raon. Orko cleared his throat and said, "Raon, have you been alone for an extended period of time recently?" He nodded, and Marlena bit her lip. He spent most of his time alone. "Outside the palace?" Orko amended quickly.

"Yes, I have," Raon said. "Day before yesterday I fell asleep beside a brook in the woods."

Orko let out a stream of liquid syllables that she didn't recognize, and Raon recoiled slightly in shock. The Trollan turned to her. "Your highness, we need to take Raon with us to Grayskull, and we need to do it now."

"What's wrong?"

"He's been tampered with, I think by Evil-Lyn."

"I have not!" Raon protested.

Orko shook his head. "I'm sorry, Raon, but you have. You couldn't know because she made you not remember."

Marlena closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Well, Raon, if this turns out to be a false alarm," she gave Orko a stern look to keep him from exclaiming in self-defense, "then you may get to see Adam and that's a good thing, right? Besides, the powers that be would undoubtedly prefer that I take a bodyguard. You are opted."

With that, she chivied him through the rest of his meal and down to the hangar. On the way, she let Jenkins know that she would be gone for a time, but planned to be back that evening. She accepted the offer of a pilot, reasoning that she didn't want Raon, possibly influenced by Evil-Lyn, to be flying the vehicle.

The trip was uneventful, thank the Elders, and the pilot set them down softly near the gateway to Grayskull. Marlena walked out towards the drawbridge, followed by Orko and Raon, prepared to shout if she had to. Instead the drawbridge lowered as of its own accord. It thumped to its place in the stone outcropping. After a moment, Marlena started across the rickety wooden bridge, still followed by her mismatched pair of companions.

The lights led them straight to a large room that had as its centerpiece a throne atop a tall stair. The Sorceress awaited them, not at the top of the stair, in the throne, but at the foot. Marlena walked towards her and the woman started to smile a greeting, but Orko whizzed by her.

"Sorceress, someone has been messing with Raon," he said pointing.

The serene woman transferred her gaze from the queen to the guard, and her eyes widened. "By the Ancients," she murmured.

Marlena turned and looked at Raon, whose eyes had also gone wide. "There's nothing wrong with me," he exclaimed. "I'm fine."

"I am the Sorceress of Grayskull, Raon, and you have a spell on you, distorting your memory. It was cast . . ." she paused briefly, ". . . roughly forty-three hours ago."

Raon shook his head, but his denials lacked conviction. "But why would Evil-Lyn have any interest in me?"

"Shall we find out?" the Sorceress asked, walking towards him. Raon kept his position, though Marlena could see that it cost him some effort. She raised her right hand and held it vertically, about an inch away from the left side of his face. After a few seconds, a faint glow crept across Raon's face, he blinked three or four times, and then, like a switch flipping, his eyes widened with shock and he looked suddenly sick.

"I – I – I betrayed him!" he exclaimed. He started shaking his head, seeming horror stricken. "I told . . . I told her everything!"

"What do you mean?" the Sorceress asked. Orko was fluttering nervously by her shoulder.

Raon didn't respond, didn't seem capable of responding. He collapsed to his knees on the floor, his frame quaking with great wracking sobs. "I tried!" he choked out. "I couldn't . . . stop . . . her!"

Running footsteps behind them made Marlena turn and she saw Randor come hurrying into the room. He stopped abruptly, nearly tripping, as he saw Raon on the floor. Marlena shook her head as he started forward, and she went to her knees next to the guard.

"Raon, calm yourself. We have to know what happened."

Gradually, his sobs decreased in intensity, and he managed to speak more coherently. "Evil-Lyn, she caught me in the woods, when I went for a walk."

"Yes?" Marlena said softly, encouragingly.

"She did something that froze me, so I couldn't run and couldn't yell out, then she unfroze my face and started asking me questions." He looked up at the queen. "I refused to answer, but she forced me, she did something that compelled me to answer truthfully." He wrapped his arms around himself miserably. "I've betrayed my friend, my prince. I – he –" He broke off, dropping his head.

Marlena put her arm around him. "Raon, what did you tell her?"

"She asked me to tell her everything I knew regarding what Daviona did with Adam." He took a deep shuddering breath. "And I know, better than anybody, everything that went on in that horrible place. I told her everything. She ask questions to get more detail. She knows . . . she knows more than you do, my queen."

Marlena bit her lip. "Did she say anything else? Anything that would indicate what she intended to do with the information?"

"I asked her," Raon said. "But she said it wasn't my concern." He shook his head. "I'll resign my comission, I'll leave the –"

"You'll do nothing of the kind," Randor said, walking up. He went down on one knee beside the stunned and frozen Raon. "You were under Evil-Lyn's power, you said so yourself. I would be a poor king if I blamed you for that."

The Sorceress knelt before him as well, putting her hand under his chin and lifting his face so that they were eye to eye. "Raon, do you blame Adam for what he did while he was with Daviona?" she asked softly.

"Of course not!" Raon yelled, looking irate. "It wasn't his fault. She had spells and drugs controlling him!"

The Sorceress nodded. "And spells can be, for some things, quite enough. You could not have stopped her. You have neither the power nor the ability to resist that sort of magic. Very few people do, as a matter of fact."

Raon shook his head helplessly. "But Evil-Lyn knows what happened to Adam, and what she knows, the Elders know she tells Skeletor."

Shaking her head, the Sorceress got to her feet. "What Evil-Lyn tells Skeletor, not you, not I, not even the Elders know. "There is no love lost in that little group. She may have been finding out for her own benefit, or for him, but she may not have told him all."

"We have to assume that she has, however," Randor said grimly. "Now, Raon, I'll hear no more about you resigning or any of that nonsense. You are among the most trustworthy men I have, and it's not your fault that Evil-Lyn did what she did." He grimaced. "It does mean that I may have to put some restrictions on your movements, to protect you from such attack again."

Raon looked bleak. "Of course, sire."

"There are some simple protections I can place on him. She left nothing behind besides the memory spell, so she has no link to him. A simple shield with an alarm will make such an attack more difficult in future, and I will know the moment the shields are touched."

"That sounds a sensible plan," Randor said.

The Sorceress nodded, then looked to Raon. "You must agree or I cannot place the spell."

"I'll do anything to protect Adam from further harm," he said fervently.

"Very well." As the Sorceress raised her hands to either side of Raon's head, Marlena stepped back into her husband's arms. It felt very good to have him near. Orko was watching the Sorceress closely, and Marlena found herself wondering if the little wizard was studying her technique.

Randor drew her back a little further away from where the spell was being cast. Leaning down so that his lips were next to her ear, he said, "I've missed you."

She turned. "And I you," she replied. He kissed her lightly on the lips. "This," she gestured toward Raon and the Sorceress, "isn't actually why we came. Orko saw the problem as we were leaving."

"Then why?" he asked. "Is there a crisis? Some emergency? What's –" His voice was rising in volume, so she reached up and put a hand against his lips.

"No, dear," she said softly. "Orko thinks he may have found a way to unbind the drug from Adam's blood."

"Really?" Randor's eyes widened. "How?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, love, I just know what he told me. Then he saw Raon and was so alarmed that he insisted I bring him here."

He was silent for a moment, and pulled her into a tight embrace. "What will Evil-Lyn do with this knowledge?" he wondered aloud. "What can she use it for?"

"I don't know," Marlena replied. "As Raon said, she now knows more about what happened to Adam than I do. Probably more even than you do. Raon has watched those images repeatedly, transcribing and writing descriptions."

He rested his forehead atop her head, and she sighed, relaxing into the intimate embrace. "Skeletor will pay for the vileness he has perpetrated on our son," he said, his tone making a vow of the words. "That witch will pay for the pain she is putting Raon through." There was a pause. "I have no interest in making Daviona pay, just in ridding the world of her foul contamination."

There was a high-pitched throat clearing and then a tapping on her shoulder. "Um . . . your highness?" Orko said nervously.

Marlena pulled away from Randor to see that the Sorceress had finished with Raon, and they were waiting. "Ah, yes," she said. Releasing her husband's hand, she walked across to Raon and put her hands on his shoulders. "Are you all right, guardsman?"

"I'm fine, my queen," he said.

She smiled and nodded, though she knew he was telling a falsehood, then turned to Orko. "Have you told the Sorceress why we were originally coming here?"

"Not yet," he said. He took a deep breath. "I think I've found a way to unlock some of the spells that are keeping those drugs in Adam's body," he said. "But there's two problems with it."

"Yes?" the Sorceress prompted him when he paused.

"Well . . ." Orko seemed oddly reluctant. "Um . . . first off, it's likely to be very painful. And second, it won't get them all. The conditioning drug, the yellow one, it uses a different spell to hold on, and I'm not sure how it works yet. I brought some so you could take a look." His hat flipped open and one of the startling extra hands emerged carrying a vial of yellow liquid.

_So strange that such a simple looking substance is causing us so much trouble,_ Marlena mused

The Sorceress took the proffered vial. Lifting it to her eye level she gazed at it, her eyes seeming to defocus slightly. Marlena wondered what she could see. After a few moments, she said, "This is not a simple spell," she said. "I can see why it is causing you difficulty, Orko."

"Can you solve it?" he asked.

"No more swiftly than you can," she said, a smile evident in her voice. "Now, as to this troublesome solution, can you demonstrate it for me?"

"I can," he said. His hat opened again and another vial emerged, this one full of a red substance. "This is a sample of Adam's blood with the drugs in it." The Sorceress nodded, and Randor's hand found Marlena's. She clung tightly to it, struggling against the feeling of disquiet she had at seeing her son's blood on display like that.

Holding it in front of him, Orko made several passes with his free hand, arcane gestures, and spoke in such low tones that she couldn't make out his words. A moment later, there was an odd movement of the liquid in the vial.

"I see," the Sorceress said after a moment's consideration. "There is no doubt that it works," she said dubiously after a moment.

"I wasn't sure it was a good enough solution, but when I told Healer Sabetta that I'd managed to get the drugs to unbind from the blood cells, she insisted that I had to tell you and the queen, and that it wasn't my place to decide."

_That explains a lot,_ Marlena thought. She had wondered at the little wizard's diffident manner when he brought the news to her. He usually bounced excitedly around the room when he'd made a useful discovery, but if he himself wasn't certain that it would be good for Adam . . .

"It would work," the Sorceress said. "And if it proves to be the only way, we will have to use it, but I get the impression that you'd like to look a little harder to see if there's another way."

"Wouldn't that hurt?" Orko asked plaintively. "I would think it would hurt. My body isn't built the way yours is, but I was pretty sure it would be painful."

"I don't know that it would be painful," the Sorceress said. "But it would be very uncomfortable indeed." She pursed her lips. "Randor, this is your decision, not mine. Do we allow Orko to do more research, or do you want him to do it right now?"

The king remained silent for a moment, then said, "I'm not sure it's my decision to make, either, Sorceress. Adam is not a child, and he's able to make decisions for himself. I think he'd like to be consulted."

"Are you sure he's up to it?" Marlena asked worriedly.

"There are moments when I'd say yes, and others when I'd say no, but we need to give him the chance to make his own choice, Marlena."

Reluctantly, she nodded. It was her instinct to shield him from anything that might cause him stress, but shielding him too much could be just as damaging as not shielding him enough.

"Perhaps we should go to your suite, then," the Sorceress suggested.

"I'll wait with the wind raider," Raon said.

"No, you won't," Randor said in a very firm voice. Caught in the act of turning toward the door, Raon stared at him in surprise. "Adam already knows you're here. I only persuaded him to stay in the suite by promising him that I'd bring you back with me."

"He wants to see his mother . . . and Orko," Raon faltered. "Not me."

Randor shook his head and put an arm around Raon's shoulders. "Your name came up," he said gruffly. "Now, has anyone ever told you what happened when Evil-Lyn got Ram-Man under her spell?"

Marlena followed, amused by the conversation. She hoped that Raon would be persuaded by the tale, and she wished she could guess what Evil-Lyn – and Skeletor – would do with the information.

Randor led them to the suite and opened the door. As soon as she stepped through, she was hit by a tall blond comet. "Mommy!" Taken by surprise, she managed to hug back, but his next words nearly undid her completely. "I didn't think you wanted to see me."

"Of course I want to see you, Adam!" she exclaimed, squeezing tightly. "I've just . . . someone has to run the kingdom."

He pulled back, his brows drawing together, looking both embarrassed and confused. "Oh, right," he said. "I'm sorry, I didn't – I –"

It tore at her heart to see him so bewildered and so clearly feeling rejected. She pulled him back into her arms. "I love you, Adam, and I would be here with you if I could, but only one of us could come."

"Oh, okay," Adam said, hugging her back. "I love you, too, Mom."

Then Randor put his arms around them both and hugged tightly. They stayed in that position for a moment, then the king said, "Adam, we've got something we need to talk with you about, and you need to say hello to Raon and Orko, too."

Adam pulled away and turned. Marlena was concerned that he would be uncomfortable with the young man who knew so much about the horrors he had experienced, but he smiled at Raon and gave him a hug, which seemed to startle the guardsman. "Thank you," Adam said.

"For what?" Raon replied. If Marlena hadn't heard Randor telling the guardsman to say nothing of betrayal or his own guilt, she would have expected the young man to come out with the story right then and there.

"For knowing without being told that I didn't choose to do what you've seen me do."

Raon shrugged. "I know you," he said simply, and Adam smiled, which brightened up his face considerably. Marlena was worried though. It was clear that he had lost weight, and his color wasn't as good as it could be.

He turned to Orko, and they hugged. For once, though, Orko didn't babble brightly. He gave Adam a squeeze, and then turned toward Randor who turned toward the Sorceress. She said, "Why don't we all sit down?" They found places. There were two comfortable chairs facing a sofa, and two more by the window. Dorgan grabbed a stool from the corner and set it in the main grouping, and the Sorceress nodded her thanks and sat down. _I suppose wings would make armchairs more difficult._

Marlena put an arm around Adam and guided him to the sofa, where she sat on one side of him. Randor sat down on the other side of him, with Dorgan and Raon taking the two armchairs. The guardsman looked as though he felt distinctly out of place, but Marlena wasn't about to send him back outside.

"Okay, now that we're all sitting down, would somebody mind telling me why everyone looks like they're attending a funeral?" Adam asked plaintively. After a split second, he let out a startled exclamation. "Wait! Am I dying?"

"No, Adam, you're not dying," Dorgan said. "I would tell you if that were the case. I have no more idea what's going on than you do."

Marlena squeezed his hand. "I think that either Orko or the Sorceress should tell you," she said, looking back and forth between the two.

Orko floated a little higher and cleared his throat. "Well," he said, "I've come up with a way to break some of the drugs away from your blood, but it has some drawbacks."

Adam leaned forward. "You can get this stuff out of me?" he asked urgently.

"There are drawbacks," Orko repeated, but it didn't seem to make a dent in Adam's eagerness.

"Fairly significant ones," the Sorceress said. This got Adam's attention, and he turned worried eyes toward her.

"What drawbacks?"

"It doesn't rid you of the conditioning agent. We haven't yet determined a way to do that."

Adam's shoulders slumped, but he said, "What else?"

"It agitates the blood, which could cause –"

"Wait," Dorgan said. "What? Did you say it 'agitates' the blood?" The Sorceress nodded, clearly discomfited at being interrupted. "What _exactly _do you mean by 'agitates'?"

"Well," said Orko slowly, "you know how the molecules of the drug are joined the blood cells?" Dorgan nodded. "The spell breaks that link in such a way that disables the drug's ability to re-join, rendering it magically inactive. It still has the effects the chemicals would have, but his body will be able to flush it. But that has the effect of causing the two objects to spring apart, which means that the blood seems to almost vibrate. The disconnection is almost like a miniature explosion."

Dorgan shook his head. "I won't allow it. Do you know what something like that could do to him?" Marlena was stunned. She didn't think any of them had counted on the healer unilaterally vetoing the plan.

Randor sat forward. "Why not? What are you talking about, Dorgan?"

"What is it?" Orko asked. "I knew there was a problem, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Healer Sabetta seemed to think I was being silly, but . . ."

"No, Orko, you were quite right," Dorgan said. "The effect that 'miniature explosions' could have on the delicate tissue of the brain, not to mention the fuctioning of the heart valves, is simply too appalling to risk."

Orko's altitude, always a good indicator of his mood, dropped as he floated downward. "I haven't found anything else," he sighed.

Dorgan pursed his lips. "It still might be made to work," he said, "but it would require fairly drastic measures."

"How so?" the Sorceress asked.

"The trouble lies in doing this spell on blood that's actually in the body, circulating."

"I thought you said that a complete transfusion was impractical," Randor said irritably.

"It is," Dorgan replied sharply. "That's not what I'm suggesting. I –"

"Well, it certainly sounds like it," Randor interrupted. "Why are you so certain it's dangerous? Clearly Sabetta doesn't think so."

"Sabetta isn't the most creative of thinkers," Dorgan replied in annoyance. "She's not good at seeing past the immediate consquences. It's why I haven't sent her out on her own yet."

Randor's eyes narrowed. "Maybe you're just thinking too creatively, you old coot!"

Adam had said nothing since the beginning of the discussion. In fact, Marlena noticed that his expression was blank. The only response he showed to the rapidly degenerating debate between his father and his healer was a shrinking in on himself.

Marlena tried to speak, but couldn't make herself heard without yelling in Adam's ear, which wouldn't help. She cast an imploring glance at the Sorceress, who was beginning to look irate herself. She raised her staff. Marlena hoped she wouldn't use sound as a weapon, because of the possible deleterious effects it could have on Adam.

A flash of light illuminated the room, and utter silence fell abruptly. The two who were wrangling didn't stop instantly, but both sat back in mingled anger and dismay as they realized that their voices made no sound.

The light at the tip of the Sorceress' staff faded and with it the total silence in the room. Marlena became suddenly aware of just how many little sounds she heard all the time but filtered out. Creaking chairs, the sound of fabric moving against other fabric and skin . . . Adam was breathing raggedly.

The Sorceress leaned forward. "Adam, what do you want?"

The boy didn't immediately reply, and Marlena saw the guilt dawning on two faces as they realized the impact their slanging match had had on Adam. Raon sat in his chair, stiff with surprise. Marlena had the impression that he was trying hard not to breathe too loudly.

Everyone looked to Adam who looked as if he wasn't any too sure he wanted that much attention. Clearing his throat, he said, "I want to hear Dorgan's alternate plan."

"Very well, then," the Sorceress said. "Dorgan?"

The healer grimaced and said, "As I mentioned before, this is pretty drastic, and it rather depends on Orko being able to keep up the spell for an extended period of time."

"I could do that," Orko said. "How long?"

"Not more than fifteen to twenty minutes," Dorgan said.

"Oh, that would be easy."

"Good." Dorgan paused. "You see, the way it would work is this. We would divert one of Adam's blood vessels into a tube into some kind of container that will keep it in range of Orko's spell, then from there into another tube that would return it to Adam's body."

Marlena felt her hand tighten on Adam's shoulder. She found the very notion of removing Adam's blood from his body vastly disturbing. Dorgan must have seen her reaction, for he directed his next explanation toward her.

"There wouldn't be more than a pint out of his body at a time, so it wouldn't be a danger to him," the healer said reassuringly.

She tried to smile, but she thought it probably looked more like a grimace. Adam took in a deep breath and sighed. "Orko, you said that's the only thing you've come up with, and I'd guess you've been trying really hard."

Orko nodded. "I haven't found any other ways. But that doesn't mean I won't if I keep on looking." The jester, who was always optimistic, didn't sound very hopeful.

"But it's not likely to come soon if you do, is it?" Adam asked. Orko shook his head sadly. Adam turned to Dorgan. "How long would it take you to put this contraption together?"

"I go back tonight and work with Orko a bit, I could probably have something ready by about noon tomorrow."

Adam tilted his head. "Is there anyone else who could set that up?" he asked. "Like Sevedra? She's a creative thinker."

"Yes . . ." Dorgan said slowly. "I suppose I could give her a description of exactly what I'm looking for and Orko could tell her what his requirements are."

"Sure," Orko said. "That wouldn't be any problem."

Adam nodded slowly, leaning back against the sofa, and Marlena pulled her arm out from around him. His father turned to him. "Well, do you want to do this?"

The prince sighed again. "Yes. I want that stuff out of me as soon as possible. If there's no danger to me, then I think we should start as soon as we can."

Marlena closed her eyes and concentrated on not clenching her fists. She did not want her son having to go through this, but . . . "Is there no other way?" she asked before she could stop herself. They all turned to look at her in surprise. She gulped, flushing. "I . . . I just don't like it."

Adam knit his brows and looked at her. "Mother, if you don't want me to do this, I don't have to. We can wait for Orko to find a . . . a different solution."

Marlena took a deep breath and drew on every ounce of the skills she'd learned as the wife of a soldier and then of a king. "No, Adam," she said. "It's your decision, and I'm just being silly."

The sharp eyes of her son, however, pierced the veil that she had drawn over her true feelings without much trouble. "Mom, you don't like it, and you have to have a reason. What is it?"

"I feel as if we're rushing into this, without sufficient thought."

Adam glanced away, toward Dorgan and then the Sorceress, then he looked back at her. "Mom, if it works, and it won't kill me, what else is there to think about?"

She opened her mouth, but could find no answer to the very sensible question. "You're right," she said after a breathless moment. "What else is there?"

He smiled, a much sadder smile than his earlier one, and he leaned in for a hug. She held him tightly, looking up at Randor who had reached out and put his hand on Adam's back. Her husband looked at her with a slight smile on his face, a knowing expression, as if he could see the pain and worry and pride that mingled within her. She noticed abruptly that he looked older than he had two weeks ago. All this stress and trauma was aging him.

Closing her eyes again, she rested her head on Adam's and locked the rage that was building in her deep down, where it wouldn't interfere with normal life.

* * *

Daviona stepped back from the first batch of what would be the yellow potion. It was still unmixed, with the three substances resting atop one another in strata. She had just cast the spell that would allow the parno root extract to mix with the olargus and the janvey, and she found herself weary. It would take seven or eight days for the mixture to come together properly, it depended on the strength of the parno root extract. _And the longer it takes, the stronger the drug will be,_ she reflected irritably.

She would have to start these fellows as she had started Adam, with the sexual drugs first, unlike the younger boys. Over the years she had come to understand just how powerful a hook sex was for adolescent males. Despite the fact that all three of the other drugs she would need for that purpose were easier to concoct and would take less time, she had elected to start with the yellow. That way it would be ready when her new fellows were.

But now she needed energy, and that was in dwindling supply. Taking up the two syringes she had already prepped with a simple non-magical aphrodisiac, she turned to the two chambers into which she had locked her guests.

One of them was asleep, but the other was pacing his room. There was a window in the door, so he saw her as she approached. He strode forward and glared at her. "Who are you?" he asked, a desperate tenor to his voice. "You have to let me go!"

Ignoring his pointless demands, she placed the syringes on the shelf atop the cabinet that was attached to the wall between the doors. This was a familiar theme. Once this had been the way she always acquired new bodyguards, but her techniques had evolved over the years as she had come to realize that attaching them younger was better for both their longevity and their level of devotion. As soon as she was able, she'd return to that method, but for now . . . at least she was in a place that was designed for her earlier practices.

Daviona reached out and touched the metal panels on either side of the door. Concentrating, she sent a wee bit of energy into the mechanism and then stood back and watched it work. Soft ropes snaked out of the bed, which was broad and well-cushioned. The ends wrapped themselves around the young man's waist, upper arms and legs, dragging him slowly, inexorably, backwards toward the bed. His eyes widened, and he started to thrash around.

"I wouldn't do that unless you want to dislocate your shoulder, sweet thing," she called. He disregarded the warning, but fortunately suffered no damage on his way into position. Soon he was on his back on the bed, securely bound there, writhing in panic. Pursing her lips, she realized that she probably should have prepared a sedative as well, but it was too late for that.

Reaching out, she pulled open the drawer of the cabinet and picked up the pair of scissors that had lain there for so many years, untouched. Then she took up one of the syringes and opened the door.

"What are you doing?" the boy demanded as she walked over to him.

The ropes had bound one of his arms so that he could not move it at all, in preparation for what she was about to do. Cutting the sleeve away, she deftly injected him.

"Ouch!" He glared at her. "What did you do to me?"

She brushed his dark hair off his face, gazing into his deep brown eyes. "Never you mind, sweet thing," she said. "Just relax and go with it."

"Let me go, you crazy woman!"

Chuckling richly, she started cutting the clothes of his body, ignoring his alarmed outcries. Then removing her own garments more sedately, she immersed herself in the ecstasy that was sex magic. Pure, heady power . . .

When she had sated herself with him, she dressed again, cleaned him, and left the room, closing the door behind her.

The other young man had been awakened by the cries – what was the name again? Ah, yes, Sanviro. The cries Sanviro had made. He, Jeclarren, stood by the door, eyes wide with alarm and no little fear. Smiling, she began the process again.


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N: Forgive me, folks, I've given up on coming up with meaningful chapter titles. If anyone has any to suggest, I'm open to it, but this story isn't even halfway posted, so my creativity is running a bit low. (Yes, it's more than twice as long as what you've read so far, and it isn't even finished yet. It's an epic.)_

**Chapter ****23**

Duncan sat at a table in The Sun and Moons, the tavern they'd taken as their headquarters in Tronak. A wizened old woman called Berte sat across from him, telling her story with zeal.

"I don't sleep so good, these days," she said, gesturing with a hand whose joints were swollen with arthritis. "So I'll sit in my chair, which is right by the window, overlooking the street." He wished she'd skip the explanation and get to what she actually saw. "Which is why I saw that young man in the middle of the night. It was Jeclarren, who does odd jobs around here. He did a less than satisfactory job on my porch steps last month, and you can be sure I gave him less than satisfactory pay."

Duncan glanced over at Man-E-Faces, who had brought this old woman to the tavern. He shrugged, as if to say he had to listen to the parenthetical comments in order to hear the story. Sighing, he said, "I can well imagine."

"So, t'other night, I was looking out the window, and I saw Jeclarren. He was clearly on his way back from a tavern. A woman came out of the alleyway and walked up to him. He seemed to recognize her, and he smiled, you know the way, when a boy sees a beautiful woman he wants to bed." Duncan nodded. "She linked arms with him and led him off down the street."

"What did she look like?"

"Brownish hair, beautiful in a tawdry kind of way." Berte tilted her head. "I'd say the hair was either curly or curled. Very well kept, but not young."

Daviona, quite likely. Duncan shook his head. "Thank you, Berte, for the information."

She nodded sharply and stood up. "I'm always happy to help the law," she said sententiously. When she was gone, Mekanek slipped into her seat at the table.

"And if it gives her the opportunity to spread a little gossip, so much the better, eh, Man-at-Arms?" he said dryly.

"True enough," Duncan replied. "Unfortunately, people of that sort are almost always the best sources of information. You just have to watch what they say and take it with a grain of salt. Sometimes they just want to get people in trouble."

"You're telling me?" Mek said, grinning.

"Right," Duncan said, sighing. "All right, that's one she has for certain and another she almost certainly has."

"Color it certain," said Buzz Off, walking up to the table. "I traced her scent to a bar where the keeper knew Jeclarren by sight, if not by name. It was definitely him, however, others remembered him as well. She came in with him and took him upstairs to a room she had rented earlier. Shortly thereafter, she came back down with him and another man that no one knew, whose description matches Sanviro." The Andrenid's wings buzzed slightly. "His presence was noted in part because people thought Jeclarren was acting out of character."

"Great," Duncan said. "She was taking an awful risk leaving him alone like that."

"True," said Mekanek slowly, "but no self-respecting young man is going to take a woman up to his private room if she's already in the company of another."

Duncan nodded grimly. "Well, is that all we've uncovered today?"

Mekanek nodded. "My folks found nothing new in the hinterlands," he said.

"And that is all I have turned up," Buzz Off said.

"Then we had best close up shop, leaving whoever is on duty here tonight to their tasks." He smiled grimly. "And I'm off to tell the king."

"You want company?" Mekanek asked.

Duncan opened his mouth to say no, but changed his mind. If nothing else, perhaps – assuming the Sorceress allowed him in – Mekanek might serve as a distraction for Adam.

They found a wind raider and Mekanek jumped into the pilot seat before Duncan could. Raising his eyebrows, Duncan climbed up and sat next to him. The master took off smoothly and turned towards Grayskull. After a few minutes, without turning, he said, "You getting enough sleep, Duncan?"

This was an unexpected question, and Man-at-Arms wasn't entirely sure how to answer it. "Sure," he said. "As much as I need."

"Good," Mekanek said, and Duncan relaxed infinitesimally. "I only asked because you have bags under your eyes and look like you spend most nights tossing and turning." Duncan pursed his lips and grimaced, looking away. That man was too damned perceptive. "Ordinarily, I'd set Dorgan on you, but with him at Grayskull, Sabetta's all too likely to tell me to mind my own business."

"I see."

"I'm glad to hear you're getting enough sleep, though," Mekanek said, with that tone in his voice that said he knew the facts were otherwise. Duncan had forgotten what a good sergeant Mekanek had made, and how very irritating it was to have someone who could see through most of his deceptions. "You might check up on Teela, she looks like she's getting almost as much sleep as you are."

Duncan looked at him and saw that he was deathly serious. "You think she's not sleeping enough?"

"I do," Mek said. "And what's more, I think the queen does, too."

"I see." He sat back in the seat. "I'll have to talk to her when we get home."

"Teela? Or the Queen?" Mekanek asked, his tone sardonic.

"Both," Duncan said irritably. "Does that satisfy you?"

"In part," the master said. "I'd be happier if you agreed to talk to someone about your trouble sleeping, but, since you're getting enough sleep, I know you won't."

"Enough, Mek," Duncan growled.

The master, smiling slightly, flew the rest of the journey in silence. It was a relatively long trip from Tronak to Grayskull and Duncan found himself dozing before long. He woke when Mekanek set the wind raider down and jumped out of the vehicle. Mekanek was close behind him as he started towards the castle.

The drawbridge opened as he approached, and he heard a voice in his head. _"The more the merrier,"_ the Sorceress said inexplicably, then went silent. Her tone seemed an odd mixture of amusement and dismay.

They crossed the drawbridge and followed the lights into the castle, Duncan keeping an eye on Mekanek. When he looked a little too curious about one hall, and his head began to extend ever so slightly upward, Duncan cleared his throat. Mek retracted his neck with an embarrassed shrug.

When they arrived at the door, it was opened from within, and Duncan got an idea of what the Sorceress might have meant. Raon stood there, gesturing them in. "Hey, kid," Mek said imperturbably as they passed him.

Only the fact that the Sorceress would never have allowed him to walk in unprepared if there had been an actual crisis kept him from panicking when he saw that Marlena and Orko were also here. Adam and Randor were nowhere to be seen, Orko and Dorgan were deep in conversation and Marlena sat nearby, looking uncomfortable and unhappy. The Sorceress was not present.

Duncan went straight to the queen's side, and she stood as he approached. "Hello, Man-at-Arms," she said. "I would guess that your search has not been fruitful."

"From the absence of dancing?" Mek asked, his head suddenly appearing over Duncan's shoulder.

She grinned, some of the tense lines in her face easing. "Among other things," she replied. "Adam and Randor will be back momentarily, and the Sorceress said she had 'matters to attend to' and would be back as soon as she could."

Duncan detected an air of unrelieved curiosity in Marlena as she told them what the Sorceress had said and sighed. Her curiosity would no doubt go unsatisfied, and the queen with a itch to know something could be extremely tenacious.

The door to the bedchamber opened admitting Randor and Adam to the sitting room. "Duncan!" Adam cried and ran across to greet him with a hug. He gave Mekanek a hug in his turn. It was almost as if a younger, less inhibited Adam had emerged from the trauma. Duncan wondered how long it would last and whether it was a good sign or not.

Randor walked up behind his son and gave Duncan a searching look, before either of them could speak, Adam stepped back and said, "What's the news from the search?" He spoke cheerfully, but his eagle eyes read Duncan's expression too acutely. The cheer in his face died a quick death and he said, "What happened?"

Duncan glanced at Randor, who nodded. Adam noticed the byplay, but didn't seem annoyed by it. Instead, he seemed somehow . . . reassured?

"We have discovered the locations of most of the missing young men we had reports of," he said, by way of imparting the good news first. Both the king and his heir nodded. "And we have confirmation that Daviona has taken two young men, Sanviro and another, one Jeclarren."

Adam's expression went blank, briefly, then he turned his back and walked over to stand by the window. His father went after him and put an arm around his shoulders, talking quietly to him. Duncan noticed the slightly bereft expression on Marlena's face before she concealed it. He didn't know what to do for the queen, so he followed after Adam and Randor.

As he reached them, they turned. "Duncan, you never said how old Sanviro was," Adam commented.

Duncan took in a deep breath. "Sanviro is seventeen," he said. "And Jeclarren is nineteen."

Adam nodded. "Do you know if either of them were . . . were . . . like me?"

Man-at-Arms wasn't at all sure how to answer the question, in fact, he wasn't sure what the question was. Randor turned to his son. "What do you mean, Adam?" he asked gently.

Adam flushed, and Duncan had a sudden realization of just what he was asking about, but it was too late to head the boy off from answering. "I mean, are they – were they – virgins?"

"I don't know, Adam," Duncan said. "It wasn't a question I asked."

The prince shrugged and looked out the window again. "I think it matters," he said diffidently. "Not that a man who has – not that anyone should be okay with being . . . with that happening to them." He kept shying around words. "It just makes a difference to how they'll react, I think." He gave Duncan an earnest, uncertain look. "Am I making sense?"

Duncan nodded. "You are. I will make discreet inquiries, but it's not always easy to be certain about young men. They may say one thing when the other is true, depending on how they want to be perceived."

"I know," Adam said. "But there's sure to be someone for at least one of them who has a good idea of the truth."

"I will do what I can to find out, Adam, I assure you." Adam sighed and turned around to look out the window again. Marlena walked up and put her arm around him, so Duncan grabbed Randor's arm and led him away. "What's going on?" he asked quietly when they were on the other side of the room.

"A crisis," he said, nodding at Raon. "And Orko has found a partial solution to the problem of the drugs binding themselves to Adam's blood. It's not necessarily the best solution, but it's the only one we have, and Adam has opted to take it."

"What was the crisis?"

Randor's expression grew very grave. "Evil-Lyn took Raon unawares and, using magic, forced him to tell her everything that happened to Adam when Daviona had him."

"By the Elders . . ." Duncan breathed. "She couldn't have found a better source, could she?"

"Not if she searched for a month," Randor replied grimly. "And we have to assume that what she found out, Skeletor knows. Raon is devastated. She hid his memory of the event and he only got it back today."

Duncan locked his anger down. Evil-Lyn, too, would pay for her crimes, at the side of her evil lord if Duncan had anything to say about the matter. But now was not the time for thinking about it or planning. Now was the time to take care of the walking wounded. He'd spent a lot of time with Raon over the last weeks, and the young man looked as desolate as Randor had said he was. It hadn't been immediately obvious when he opened the door, but looking at the way he sat in his chair, not looking at anyone or interacting at all, it became clear.

"I tried to convince him that Ram-Man had much the same experience, but it's going to take time. He just remembers betraying his friend's worst experiences to our enemies."

Duncan nodded, contemplating ways both to distract Raon from that wretched thought and to give him reassurance. Then he resolutely turned his thoughts back to the present. "Randor, you said that Orko had come up with a solution, and that you weren't entirely sure it was the best? What is it?"

Randor grimaced. "Orko has found a way to get all the drugs in Adam's system unbound from his blood except the conditioning agent."

"Surely that's good news," Duncan said, knowing it couldn't be purely good news from the way Randor had said it.

"Not entirely," the king said. "The method can't be done while Adam's blood is in his body without risking his health or even his death." Duncan nodded slowly. That was a bit of a drawback. "So Dorgan proposes to run Adam's blood through a tube to get it out of Adam's body, do the spell, then return it to Adam's body, with never more than a pint out at once, and none of it out for very long, from the sound of things."

"I can see why you might be concerned, but if Dorgan suggested it, surely it can't be too dangerous for him."

"I know, but Marlena is very upset, and that's taking a toll on Adam. It's just a mess all around." He sighed. "It isn't helping things that Adam turns to me when he's stressed. I think that Marlena is feeling superfluous, and that couldn't be further from the truth."

"I think she's lonely," Duncan said.

Randor turned and looked at his queen, who was sitting with Adam in the window embrasure, talking quietly. "She's alone," he said in a tone of a man discovering a fact he hadn't previously known. "I hadn't considered that I'd be leaving her alone."

"She can handle it, Randor, she just doesn't like it much," Duncan said. "You didn't marry a wilting flower, sire."

Randor smiled softly, his eyes still on Marlena. "No, that I didn't." He walked away from Duncan towards his wife and son, and Duncan hadn't the heart to call him back. Nor, really, any cause.

Turning, he surveyed the room. Mekanek was talking to Dorgan and Orko while Raon sat alone, looking miserable.

He walked over to Raon and put a hand on his shoulder. "All will be well, my boy," he said softly. The young guardsman rewarded him with a look that was first puzzled and then comprehending. "We'll talk when we get back to the palace, all right?"

"Of course, Man-at-Arms," Raon said, comprehension being replaced by nervous apprehension.

Duncan squatted beside him. "I don't blame you, Raon, nor should you blame yourself. And that's enough of that talk for here, right?"

Raon nodded, seeming marginally reassured by his comment. "Adam seems a little better, I think," he said. "And if Orko can get those drugs out of him, that can only help, right?"

"Yes," Duncan replied, looking over at his prince. At that moment, Marlena and he stood and hugged. With her arm around his shoulders Marlena led him back toward the group.

"We're going to have to go back now, Adam," she said.

The prince's shoulders drooped, and he looked sadly at the group of them. "You will come back here, though, won't you?" he asked his mother in a calm voice that tried and failed to hide his worry.

"When I can," she said, stroking his cheek. "Just remember, it's not that I don't want to be here."

"Can you at least come tomorrow, when Dorgan does the treatment?" he asked pathetically.

"Of course I can," she said, and Duncan devoutly hoped that no calamity befell that required her urgent attention tomorrow. He'd send Teela with her as bodyguard. His ruminations were broken into by Dorgan who pulled him aside and handed him a note.

"Give this to Sevedra when you get back to the palace," he said firmly, leaving no room for argument. "She'll give you a draught that will ease you off to sleep without the stupor that can be a side effect of most sleeping draughts. It won't prevent you from waking to ordinary stimuli, but it will help calm your thoughts and let you –"

"I don't want to take drugs, Dorgan," he growled.

Throwing a glance at Adam who had, luckily, not heard, the healer glared at him. "Quiet, man!" he said in a quiet but intense voice. "It's not a drug. It's a tisane. An herbal infusion that has some beneficial properties."

"I'll wager you're not using anything to help you sleep," Duncan said softly.

"What would you wager?" Dorgan asked shrewdly. "I'd be happy to fleece you out of whatever it is." Duncan knit his brows. "Yes, boy, I'm having some trouble sleeping, and yes, I drink this tea to help me with it. What's more, so does Adam, though he doesn't know it, and I'll thank you not to inform him of the fact."

"Of course not," Duncan said irritably, taking the note. "I'll give this to Sevedra."

"Good man," the healer replied with the air of a man praising an obedient dog. "You do that."

Marlena had said her goodbyes to Adam, so Duncan walked over and gave the boy a hug. "Take care of your father for me, would you?" he said.

"Sure," Adam said grinning and glancing over at his father. Then he took a step closer and peered at his mentor's face. "Duncan, you don't look so good. Are you getting enough sleep?"

"Not so far, but I will be tonight," Duncan said. "Don't worry about it." Adam nodded, but his eyes strayed towards his mother. Following his gaze, Duncan had a feeling he was going to get a lecture from her this evening since Mekanek was talking to her. The glance they both shot towards him only reinforced that impression.

"Mek's already after you about it, isn't he?" the prince asked, his eyes crinkling.

"Yes," Duncan replied, grimacing. "He sicced Dorgan on me, and it looks now as if he's going to sic your mother on me."

"Good," Adam said. "You don't take good enough care of yourself when there are crises. I would hate to be the cause of your going over flat on your face."

Duncan snorted. "Very well, my prince," he said, grinning at his young charge. "I hear and obey."

Adam grinned more broadly and hugged him. "Did Dad tell you about Orko's spell?"

"He did. I'll be by tomorrow evening to see how you are and let you and your father know how the search is progressing."

"Did you tell them all how to behave around captives?" Adam asked urgently. "That's really important."

"Yes, Adam, I did. I told the women to allow the men to handle it, and I told the men to be gentle and comforting."

Adam grimaced. "Something like that," he said. "Say hi to Teela for me." He glanced over at Raon. "And see if you can figure out what's bugging Raon. He seems awfully down."

Duncan glanced over at the guardsman who looked deeply distressed still. "I will take care of it, Adam."

The prince smiled. "I think my mother's ready to go now." Duncan looked up and saw that Marlena was headed towards them. She gave Adam one final tight hug and then threaded her arm through Duncan's.

"Walk with me, Man-at-Arms," she said softly. Surrendering to his fate, Duncan went along with her.

* * *

Adam watched them go and walked over to his father when the room had emptied of their visitors. "He's in trouble," he said.

"Who?" his father asked, looking perplexed.

Shrugging, Adam said, "Man-at-Arms. He's not getting enough sleep, and Mekanek sicced Mother onto him."

Randor grinned down at him, and Adam felt warm from the attention. "Your mother is very firm, isn't she?"

Adam nodded and leaned against his father. The king put his arm around him and they walked over to the sofa and sat down together. He wondered how long it would be before his father got impatient with the higher level of affection he seemed to need right now. He hoped it was a long time. Of course, when they went back to the palace, Adam would have to be careful not to get like this in public.

There was a sudden chill in his belly at the thought of going where other people could see him. Other people he didn't know well. They'd be able to tell that he wasn't quite right anymore, and they wouldn't know why. They'd think he was broken. That started a new, even more terrifying thought. What if he _was_ broken?

* * *

Randor held his son close, but, gradually, he became aware of a change in his mood and posture. Adam curled against him, clinging tightly, burying his head against his side. He tightened his arms around his son.

"What is it, Adam?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

The boy just shook his head and burrowed deeper. Randor glanced up at Dorgan who shrugged and sat down at the table to set to work on his notes. The king decided not to push his son into speaking just now, and so he just held him. After a short while, he picked up the book they had been working their way through and began to read aloud.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Teela left the dinner that had been delivered to the suite she shared with her father under its covers. She knew that he would be back soon, for the queen and Mekanek had both called after they left Grayskull to report their return. They had missed dinner with the court, and Teela had stayed in the communications center for awhile past the end of her shift.

Then she had gone back to their rooms and prepared things for her father's return, so that when he came home, he would be comfortable. He was looking very tired of late and needed his rest, and she was determined that he get it.

She saw the wind raiders land, and turned expectantly, but he was longer about arriving than she had anticipated. The door opened and her father entered, eyes deep with worry and weariness. He smiled and crossed to her, pulling off his helm and breastplate to give her an affectionate hug.

She drew back and said, "Father, you need to eat your dinner. "Did you have anything for lunch?"

"I ate," he said, looking down at her, his eyes narrowing. "Has Mekanek been to see you?"

Teela shook her head perplexedly. "No, why would he?"

"He seems unusually interested in how much I'm getting to eat and how much sleep I'm getting at night."

Squaring her shoulders, Teela said, "Good, I'm glad you have people looking out for you besides me."

He raised an eyebrow at her and gestured toward the table. She pulled the covers off their food and they sat down to eat.

"Yes, well," her father said, "I'm not the only one he's concerned about."

Teela served out the wine. "I don't think the queen is getting enough rest either, but I have no authority where she's concerned."

"And you have over me?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Well . . . um . . ." she faltered, feeling a bit out of her depth. The look in his eyes was not angry in the least, so she steadied. "I have more with you than with the queen," she said. "After all, you are my father."

"Well, as it happens, if Mekanek has any concerns regarding the queen, he didn't share them with me," he said, eating the chicken the chef had prepared.

"Then who?" she asked curiously.

"You, Teela."

She grimaced. "I'm sleeping through the night, Father," she said. "There's not much more to hope for, is there?"

"The queen tells me that your sleep has been disturbed by nightmares."

Teela sighed deeply. "Yes, it has, but it's nothing, Father. Anyone would have nightmares right now. It's perfectly –"

"About Skeletor studying?" he asked, interrupting her. She fell silent, both at his unaccustomed rudeness and the expression on his face. "Tell me of your dreams, Teela, they may be important."

She shook her head. "They're dreams," she said incredulously. "Dreams have no meaning, Father."

He was silent then, for awhile, eating. They finished the meal in silence, and then he stood, gathering the dishes onto the tray and putting it outside the door. She rose as well, uncertain what to do. He was being so very odd. When he shut the door he turned back to her.

Taking her hand, he led her to sit down. "Teela, please tell me about your dreams. You knew there was something wrong on both the nights when Adam was being drained."

"That was a coincidence," Teela said uneasily. "It doesn't mean anything."

"I'm afraid it does," he said, seeming uncertain how to go on. "Teela, you're – I've expected this."

She sat stunned, staring. "Expected?" she repeated.

"There were signs when you were little," he said. "Hints that you were unusual."

Shaking her head, she pulled her hand from his. "Father, what are you talking about?"

"You have the Sight."

"I have _what_?" she exclaimed disbelievingly.

"The Sight," he said. "You can see the future on occasion, and sometimes the present."

"I don't understand," she said plaintively. "Why would I have the Sight? That's something for wizards and sorcerers, not for soldiers."

He shook his head. "That just isn't so," he said. "More than one soldier has had the Sight in the past, Teela, you know that from history."

"But why me?" she asked.

"There is no point in asking for the why of such things, Teela," he said, eyes deep with sympathy. "They come when they come, and to whom they will."

Teela looked into her father's eyes and . . . despite her wish otherwise . . . she believed him. He wouldn't lie to her. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Last night, I dreamed of Skeletor, looking through books. Not studying, though. He was looking for something. I don't know where he was or what he was looking for, but it scared me stiff."

"Is that all?" he asked.

"It is," she said. "It was all that happened."

"What did the books look like?"

Teela closed her eyes, and the picture built behind her eyes. "Big thick tomes, bright-colored bindings dimmed with dust." It was vivid, almost as if she had returned into the dream. "The writing in them is all by hand, with drawings and diagrams, measurements." Oddly, as she focused on the books, they came clearer to her. "Like recipes, but not."

"Like spells?" her father asked, and she opened her eyes in startlement.

"I've never seen a spell written, Father," she said.

He stood up and walked into his room. He was gone for so long that she got up and followed, and found him standing up from a chest that had always been kept locked. He held in his hand a small book, bound in dark blue leather with gold tooling. "This, Teela, is a book of spells."

"Why do you have such a thing?" she asked as he came towards her. He made no reply, but took it over to the table, setting it down and opening it. She peered over his shoulder at the pages and said, "Those are spells?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "Did what you saw look like this?"

She leaned forward and turned the pages. "Much the same. As I said, like recipes, but not." The pages were fascinating but unreadable. "What language is this?"

He shut the book and said, "Ancient Haemulorian. Many books of magic are written in ancient languages, not because the spells are ancient, but because the wizards know that very few people can read those languages."

"Paranoia?" Teela suggested tentatively, looking down at the book.

"A bit," her father replied. "But not entirely."

"What do the spells in that book do?" she asked, intrigued.

He smiled. "They are very simple spells, the most basic learning spells for an apprentice, nothing overly powerful."

"So, nothing dangerous."

His expression sobered. "Never think that any level of magic isn't dangerous, dearheart," he said firmly. "Even the simplest, most basic spell can be used offensively. I thought I told you that."

Teela flushed. "Yes, of course you have," she said. "I just – I meant that it's not something you have to worry about losing so much as if it had some of the scarier spells we've seen."

He nodded, then raised his eyebrows. "Yes, that's true, yet I still lock it in a trunk in my room and let no one know that I have it. Why do you think that is?"

She bit her lip and thought. "Because you don't want Orko to find it?" she suggested, seeking wit since sense wasn't coming to her. His expression darkened and she thought harder. "Um . . . because even the simplest spells are a temptation to the foolish?"

"Better answer, Teela," he said seriously. "There are those who would seek out such books just to fiddle with, and that is terrifically dangerous."

Teela knit her brows. "But most people don't have the ability to make magic work, do they, Father? I mean, if they found the book, there's nothing much they could do with it?"

He pursed his lips. "There is a bit of that energy in all of us, and all it takes is the right moment, the right desire, and a lot of damage can be done."

Teela looked down at the book, a little startled that it could be so dangerous. "Why _do _you have it then?"

He didn't answer immediately. He stood looking thoughful for a few moments, then took the book and returned to his bedroom. A moment later he walked back out into the sitting room and went back over to sit down on the sofa. Teela went to join him where he sat silently. She didn't speak because when he looked like that, it meant he was thinking hard.

"What spell was he looking for?" he asked at long last. "What is he planning?"

"Are you sure that dream means anything?" she asked. "It was so simple."

He shook his head. "The way you remembered it, the way you spoke of it. No, it was a Seeing, I'm sure of it."

"Why would I start so suddenly now?" she asked, feeling utterly bewildered. "Are you sure?"

He put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "I am sure, dearheart."

She sighed. "But why now?"

He was silent again for a moment, then he sighed. "I think it may have something to do with Adam being in danger. You are very close to him, and his troubles might have triggered this. The first two incidents we know of were related to Adam's being attacked, after all."

Teela looked across the room at the wall. She had been rather peroccupied with Adam of late. "Do you think this dream about Skeletor has anything to do with Adam?" she asked.

Her father shrugged. "I don't know. It might, but it might not. Now that the Sight has awakened, it may be that it's not going to go back to sleep again."

Grimacing, she bit her lip. "How do I know which dreams mean something and which are just dreams?" she asked with some annoyance. "I mean, I assume that if I dream of going into the great hall in my underwear that's not a foreseeing."

"You'll get a feel for it," he said. "In the meantime, we should start talking about your dreams in the mornings."

"All my dreams?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in mild alarms. Some of her dreams weren't things she would want to share with her father."

"For awhile," he said, and his brow creased sympathetically, almost as if he could see her thoughts. "We'll both get a feel for what dreams matter and which are just your mind working through issues on its own."

She nodded. "Well, then," she said, glancing up at the clock. "I'd better get to sleep if I want to have time for any dreams."

He followed her gaze and let out a muffled oath. "It is late, isn't it?" he said. They stood up and he gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Good night, dearheart."

"Good night, Father," she said.

As they turned away toward their rooms, he stopped. "Oh, Teela?" She looked back. "Adam asked me to say hi for him."

She smiled and went off to bed.

* * *

Duncan undressed and climbed into bed, wondering if he'd said the right things, and if others of Teela's powers would start to show up now that the Sight had done so. Would the notion that he'd seen signs of her abilities when she was little hold up if she started discovering magical abilities beyond the Sight?

He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. She'd kept asking why he had that book. He couldn't really tell her that it was in preparation for her eventual need.

"_You handled that perfectly, Duncan,"_ a voice said in his head.

"_Did I?"_ he asked dubiously. _"I have no answers for her questions."_

The Sorceress was silent for a moment, and he wondered briefly if she was going to speak again. _"Duncan, there are no answers to her questions. That is one of the difficulties with having the Sight. It always poses more questions than it answers."_

"_If you were watching, what do you think of her dream?"_

Speaking with the Sorceress required patience and a willingness to wait while she considered every sentence, he reminded himself as she paused again. _"I agree, it was a foreseeing, but I am not sure that it does not relate to Adam. Not after what we know happened between Evil-Lyn and Raon."_

"Hell!" Duncan muttered. _"I forgot to tell Teela about that,"_ he said.

"_The morning will be soon enough,"_ she replied. _"I think you are right about the connection to Adam, by the way. She is the heir to my powers, and Grayskull has a close interest in the prince of Eternia." _Duncan didn't like being reminded that Teela would one day have to take up the mantle of the Sorceress of Grayskull, nor did he think that was the relevant connection. _"And remember, Duncan, nothing is set in stone as of yet."_

"_I thought fate couldn't be argued with,"_ he said, but she was gone.

* * *

When Adam awoke the next morning, his father was still asleep. He sat up and drew slightly away. It was odd that his father was taking so much time off from ruling the kingdom to stay with him. He would never have expected that, never have believed it if someone had told him that it could happen.

He stood up and walked across the room into the bathing chamber. He began running the tub full of water and went to use the privy.

Before he climbed into the tub, he looked at himself in the mirror and saw a figure that wasn't so different from the one he'd seen so many times before. His nightclothes were fitting a little more loosely than usual, he noted, wondering why that was. He pulled off the pajama top and looked down at the bandage that covered the burn on his arm. He had a feeling that it was there, now, more as a way to keep the brand concealed than to aid its healing. Reaching over, he pulled it off and looked down at it. The scabs were gone now, and the blisters were largely healed, leaving a smooth, pink mark in the shape of a capital letter D with an hourglass inside. It was definitely an hourglass, he thought, sidling closer to the mirror to examine the mark.

At the moment it stood out against his fair skin, but he knew from experience with burns in the past that the pinkness would fade in time. He touched his hand to it, only to find that the scar was more sensitive than he'd expected it to be.

_Daviona's symbol,_ he thought, shuddering, a cold chill threading through his belly. _To mark that I belong to her._ He bit his lip. _She certainly paid enough for me._ He shook his head, resolutely putting those thoughts out of his mind.

Pulling off the rest of his clothes, he climbed into the water. The heat of it made his body relax, and he lay back for a few moments, just resting, not thinking about anything. Then he sat up and started soaping himself up, but he couldn't keep the activity up. It was so nice just being in the water and alone. He was immersed in water and bubbles up to his neck when his father came in, looking somewhat alarmed. His tense, worried expression relaxed as he saw Adam in the water.

"Good morning, Dad," he said, grinning.

"Good morning, Adam." The king walked across. "Did you sleep well?"

Adam shrugged. "I didn't wake up, and I don't remember any dreams, so I guess so."

His father nodded, then went into the privy. Adam washed his hair and was ready to get out by the time his father came back in. "Did you have breakfast yet?" Randor asked him.

"No, I just came in here," he said, wrapping a towel around himself. He hadn't brought any clothes in with him. "Do you want a bath?"

"I bathed after you went to sleep last night," his father said. "Why don't we go have breakfast?"

They went out into the main sitting room where there were three trays waiting. Evidently Dorgan hadn't risen yet. As they ate, a thought occurred to him, and he mulled it over until Dorgan emerged from his workroom. He'd clearly been up for awhile.

Adam looked curiously at him. "Why didn't you eat breakfast, Dorgan?"

The healer looked around at him vaguely. "Breakfast?" he said, and then his eyes seemed to light on the table. "Ahh, breakfast." He walked over and sat down. "Good morning. Did you two sleep well?"

Adam nodded and continued eating while he listened to his father and Dorgan exchange pleasantries for a few minutes. When they had run down, he looked up at Dorgan. "Do you think it would be a good idea to draw out some more of my blood before we try to remove the drugs from it? So Orko has something to work on?"

"Why?" his father asked. "Once the drugs are gone . . ."

"Not for me, for the others," Adam said. "Sanviro and Jeclarren, and any others she may take between now and when we catch her."

"It's a good thought, Adam," Dorgan said. "But I can't take too much. We don't want to weaken you."

"Take as much as you can, then," Adam said. "As much as I can afford."

Dorgan nodded slowly. "I need to contact the palace," he said.

Adam's father pulled out the comlink and Dorgan looked down at it. "How do I get the Sorceress' permission to go outside?" he asked. His eyes went oddly blank for a moment, and then he said, "Oh, that's how."

Eyebrows drawn down irritably, Dorgan went to the door and left. Adam looked up in the general direction of the ceiling. "I think we're being watched," he said.

"I guess so," his father said, but Adam's attention was pulled away from him by a voice in his head.

"_No, Prince Adam, I am not watching,"_ the Sorceress said. _"He spoke my name."_

Adam raised his eyebrows. "Really?" he said speculatively. He could think of all sorts of ways to use that information.

"_Now, be nice, Adam,"_ she said with amusement tinging her tone.

"_Yes, ma'am,"_ he said automatically.

A sense of mild dismay came across the link she'd initiated, but she didn't say anything. Adam looked over at his father who was looking at him curiously. "Really what?" he asked.

"The Sorceress says she's not watching, but that she heard him speak her name."

"I see."

Adam walked over to the window. He was beginning to go a little stir crazy, and he thought his father must be, too, with nothing to do. "I don't know why Dorgan's worried about me being weak. It's not like I'm in any danger here inside Grayskull, and I'm not doing anything. A little weakness wouldn't be a big deal, would it?"

His father didn't immediately respond, and the expression on his face when Adam turned around was both sad and worried. "Adam, you have to trust that Dorgan knows what's best."

"I do," Adam said. "It just seems kind of pointless to worry about it right now. I have nothing to do." He wished he sounded less whiny.

His father walked up and put his arm around his shoulders. "Your most important job right now is getting better."

Adam sighed. "Does it have to be so boring?"

"We could play chess again?"

Adam groaned. "You used to be so much better at that."

"Actually, I don't think I've changed. I think you got better."

"We've played an awful lot of chess lately," Adam said. "It's not that I don't like it, it's just not productive."

"I know what you mean," his father said.

"And I'm keeping you from doing stuff. Maybe you should go home. I can stay here with Dorgan." Adam tried to ignore the frisson of unease that fluttered through him at the thought of his father leaving.

"Actually, I thought I'd have your mother send me some work over here. There are things that don't need to be addressed instantly, and if I can take some of that off her plate, it will make things easier both for her and for Jenkins."

Adam blinked. "That's a good idea. Jenkins gets positively cranky when things get piled too high."

His father snorted. "Well, that will have to wait until later today, when your mother and Duncan come. In the meantime, what shall we do?"

"I suppose could show you some of the tricks Manny's taught me for chess."

They fiddled around with the game, not actually playing, but setting up problems and coming up with solutions until Dorgan returned with an insulated case. He walked across the room and set the package down on the table, watching as Adam and his father worked through the problem they'd set.

When they were done, he cleared his throat and they both looked at him. "I'm ready to draw your samples, Adam," he said, and Adam bit his lip, nodding.

"What's in there?" he asked, trying to distract himself from the thought of needles. "Or didn't you bring sample jars with you?"

Dorgan raised his eyebrows, his expression showing what he thought of the notion that he would ever be unprepared. "It's some of that blood we drew out of you to keep for emergencies, my prince," he replied. "This way I can pull out samples and immediately replace what I've taken."

Adam looked at the case, a little startled by the size of it. "How much do you plan to take?" he asked.

The healer's lips twisted into a wry grin. "Not that much," he said. "This is the smallest case we've got, and it isn't full." With that he opened it, revealing a single pint of blood nestled in the protective webbing. Adam heaved a sigh of relief as he followed Dorgan into the examination room.

* * *

Duncan dismissed the meeting and sent the teams out to their tasks. He'd spoken to Teela that morning about her dreams, and they had all been fairly ordinary. Then he'd told her about Raon's encounter with Evil-Lyn, and she had been livid. Initially, she'd been furious with Raon for allowing Evil-Lyn to ensnare him, but he had talked her through the complexities of the situation until she'd come to her own realization that the young man wasn't to blame.

Then he'd told her about the medical treatment that Dorgan and Orko were going to try on Adam today, and his intention that she act as the queen's bodyguard on the trip to Grayskull. Teela had agreed with an alacrity he found not at all surprising, but all the talking had made them late for the morning meeting.

He started to go down from the dais to join his own team, but as he walked across the room, Orko came zooming in, heading straight for him. He gave Ram-Man and Buzz Off a nod and they marshalled the rest of the group together and set off for Tronak.

"Yes, Orko?" he said.

"Sevedra and I have something we think will work, but I wanted you to look it over before we send it to Dorgan."

"All right," Duncan replied and followed the jester to the infimary. He had always found Orko frankly irritating and more that a little useless, but in this emergency his skills and ingenuity were shining like never before. It was forcing Duncan to reevaluate his previous opinions, something he rarely found necessary.

They reached the infirmary and Orko took him through into a laboratory where Sevedra waited. They had the device hooked into a water source, and Duncan looked it over carefully. It worked smoothly, with no hangups that might delay the blood from returning to Adam's body in an appropriate amount of time. There was a corkscrew spiral of tubing that would keep a significant amount of blood within a square foot, which, he ascertained from Orko, was the maximum effective area of the spell. Then it swiftly returned the liquid to the source.

The portion of the apparatus that actually entered Adam's body was extremely small and easily removed, yet it would be effective for the purpose it had been contrived for. "Very good work," he said, looking at both of them.

"Most of it was Sevedra's," Orko disclaimed. "I just told her what was needed and heated things up sometimes to make them bend easier. She did all the design work."

Duncan smiled at the medic who contrived to look modest. "I think it's ready to go, then," he said. "Thanks for letting me look it over."

He started to head out to the hangar, but before he'd even left the room, he was stopped by a voice in his head. _"Duncan, I have overheard a request on the part of both King Randor and Prince Adam,"_ she said. _"They both require activity."_

He nodded thoughtfully. _"Was anything specific mentioned?"_ She gave him the gist of the converstaion, and he turned to Orko and Sevedra. "Would you two get that ready to send, bring it and anything else you need down to the hangar and then wait until I get a few things together myself?"

"Of course, Man-at-Arms," they both said. Duncan went up to the king's office and wrested a box of paperwork from a reluctant Marlena and a nearly gleeful Jenkins. Then he went to his workshop and dug out the large box of electronic items – servos, comlinks and the like – that were too good to be thrown away, but which needed minor repairs or adjustments. Piling a toolbox atop that, he took it and the box of files down to the hangar.

After getting everything loaded into a wind raider, he found a pilot to fly them there and took a sky sled so he could go straight to Tronak from Grayskull.

As they arrived at the castle, the Sorceress spoke to him again. _"I am allowing more people into Grayskull than have been permitted inside for centuries."_ He wasn't sure how to interpret her tone, it was exceedingly neutral with a hint of something . . . amusement?

He landed the sky sled and dismounted. _"I'm really not sure what to say to that, Sorceress,"_ he said slowly.

"_There is nothing to say, Duncan,"_ she said, her amusement showing through much more clearly now. _"It was an observation, only. Do I gather that Teela will be accompanying Queen Marlena today?"_

"_Yes, she will. I thought it would be good for her to see Adam, and good for Adam to see her. We don't want him to get too used to not seeing women."_

"_I take it his mother and I do not count?"_

Duncan blinked as he walked toward the wind raider. _"No, you don't. You're both authority figures."_

"_I see."_

"_Toward that end, Sevedra's presence should prove useful,"_ he said. _"I am sorry that so many people are invading your domain."_

"_It is not my domain,"_ she replied. _"It is Grayskull's, and it has opened itself to this benevolent invasion."_

This was an unexpected viewpoint, an unexpected revelation. Duncan looked up at the gray edifice, wondering just how aware of the people around it the building itself was. _How separate is it from the power of the Elders?_ he wondered.

"_That is an excellent question,"_ the Sorceress said gravely, and then she was gone as the drawbridge opened.

He lifted his box and the files out of the wind raider. "Are you ready?" he asked Sevedra, who was gazing up at the castle, eyes wide with awe.

"Ready?" she repeated. Then she shook her head, seeming to come to herself. "Oh, yes, sir." She bent and pick up the bags they had packed the equipment in. Orko had the most finicky piece of the apparatus and was already floating his way across the drawbridge. This was the fourth person he'd accompanied on their first foray into Grayskull in the past week. It was getting to be habit, though he didn't have to discourage Sevedra from exploring. She was quite content to follow the path shown to her.

They reached the suite and Dorgan took Sevedra and Orko firmly into the bedroom he was using as an examination and treatment room, all three of them disappearing completely aside from a few metallic noises. Adam and Randor both looked after them, different expressions on their faces. Adam looked both pleased and apprehensive. Randor seemed to have deep misgivings, but that didn't surprise Duncan. It was an alarming process that Dorgan and Orko proposed, but it would work. _It will work . . ._

"Good morning," Duncan said. "It came to my attention that the two of you are skiving off of work. We can't have that, now can we?"

"Skiving?" Randor said, his lips twitching, and Duncan was glad to see that he had distracted his king from his distress. "What have you brought?"

"It wasn't easy, but I brought you some of your longer term projects."

Randor paused in the middle of taking the box of files. "It wasn't easy?" he asked.

"Marlena was loath to let go of anything. I'm not sure why," Duncan explained. Randor carried his box away to the table, and Adam watched him with an odd, almost lost expression. "Adam?" Duncan said. The boy turned, and his expression lightened. "I have some things for you to do as well."

Adam came across to him eagerly, and Duncan took the box across to the table and pulled the toolbox off the top. "This is that box of stuff that I never seem to be able to get to. I thought this would be a good opportunity to get it dealt with, finally."

"That's absolutely great," Adam said, leaning over the box and starting to pull things out. "I know how long this stuff has been piling up."

"Well, I'll leave you two to your tasks, then," Duncan said, stepping back. "If you find that you're missing any tools, Adam, just let me know when I come by this evening and I'll fetch them here tomorrow morning."

Adam nodded, grinning up at him, clearly gleeful at having something useful and productive to do. Duncan tousled his hair and walked over to Randor. The king looked up, and he must have seen something in his expression, for he stood up and walked with him to the door. They stepped outside and Randor said, "Is something wrong?"

"No, not wrong," Duncan replied, gripping Randor's arm reassuringly. "But I think I should tell you that Adam looked very upset when you picked up that pile of files and walked away. He's going to enjoy getting his work done, but . . ."

Randor glanced back toward the door and smiled slightly. "I'll keep that in mind," he said. "Thank you, my friend. Now, did you take Dorgan's advice last night?"

Duncan rolled his eyes. "I didn't exactly have much choice, now, did I? Marlena saw to that."

"Oh, did she take you to your room and brew the tea for you?" Randor asked wryly.

He growled, and the king laughed. "I have to go, sire," Duncan said irritably. "To Tronak."

They both sobered. "I wish you luck," Randor said.

Duncan nodded and left the castle. Luck. That commodity seemed to be in short supply, and skill was getting him nowhere.

* * *

Jeclarren awoke with no clear idea where he was. The bed was too wide to be the one he rented from old lady Dalira in her attic. Not that this was anything like the first time he'd awoken in a strange bed, but he felt dead tired, as if he'd worked hard all day and night, and he could tell that he was alone on the bed.

Rolling over he sat up – and his eyes widened as he remembered everything that had happened the previous two days. Reaching up, he rubbed the bruised place on his arm where that insane woman had injected him with that stuff, whatever it was.

He was as naked as he'd been when she'd left him, and there didn't seem to be anything for him to put on in here aside from the blanket he'd slept under. Wrapping that around himself, he stood up and looked around again at the room. The walls were softly upholstered in some kind of durable fabric of a deep blue-green color, same as the bed behind him. There were two doors in the room, both of some pale fine-grained wood. One had a window and looked out into another room, a room that didn't appear to be a cell. The other was solid from bottom to top, and his best guess was that it led into the cell occupied by his fellow captive.

Leaning close to the door, he called out. "Hey, you there?"

A moment later, he heard movement and the other spoke. "Yes. Who are you?" The other man's voice was unsteady at best.

"My name is Jeclarren," he said. "And you?"

"S-s-sanviro," the other stuttered. "Where are we?"

"I wish I knew," he replied. "What happened to you?"

"You mean last night?" asked Sanviro, sounding dismayed.

"No, I know what happened last night," Jeclarren said, grimacing. He leaned his head against the door. He didn't want to think about last night and that madwoman. "I meant how did she get hold of you?"

Sanviro was silent for a long moment, and when he spoke, Jeclarren thought he understood why. The other man's voice was choked with emotion. "I was a fool!" he declared passionately. "I – I wanted my betrothed to become jealous. I thought if she saw me talking to a beautiful stranger that she would stop being so – so stubborn."

Jeclarren's eyes went wide, and he thumped his head against the door. "How old are you?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound as appalled as he felt.

"S-seventeen," the boy said. "You?"

_Lord of light,_ Jeclarren thought. "Nineteen," he responded. _He's just a kid._ "I was pretty stupid, too," he said. "I thought I'd found me a meal ticket."

"A meal ticket?" Sanviro repeated in a puzzled tone. "What do you mean?" Jeclarren thumped his head again, feeling very old and somewhat jaded all of a sudden.

Footsteps tapped out of sight, and he heard Sanviro move swiftly back away from his door. Jeclarren looked at the woman as she came into view, trying to decide what he should do. Last night he'd been so shocked, so stunned by the magic that had grabbed him that he hadn't said or done anything.

She had a tray in her hands and on it were two syringes of something sort of greenish. Jeclarren gulped nervously. _What does she really want?_ he wondered desperately. _Sex she could get anywhere, but this is more than that. It has to be._

As she had the night before, she went for Sanviro first, and Jeclarren stood at the door, listening to the boy beg her not to do what she was doing. It clearly had no effect on her whatsoever, and Sanviro's voice trailed off eventually. Jeclarren stayed by the door, straining his ears, for the only hint he had of what was coming was what he could hear from the other room.

Gradually, he heard sounds of pleasure issuing from there, and he closed his eyes. What was she doing to them with that stuff in her syringes? What could she make them do?

After what seemed like an hour or more, he heard the door next to him open and she emerged, a smile on her face that he'd seen before. She shut Sanviro's door and locked it again, then turned toward his, walking over to stand directly in front of the door.

He looked at her for a moment, then started the best acting performance of his life. "You know, you don't need those," he said, glancing aside in the direction of the tray she'd set down. "I'll do anything you want, you don't need to drug me." She smiled at him. Jeclarren fought back the urge to back away or start shouting rude epithets. She really freaked him out with that expression. "I can do a lot of things you'll really like, and if you use those things on me that hold me down, I can't do that, see?"

Her expression didn't change as she placed her hands on either side of the door, and she certainly didn't speak. He got the impression, though, that she liked hearing him plead with her. That infuriated him, but his pride was irrelevant.

Abruptly he felt the magical ropes seize him again. "Please, I can be a lot of fun," he said, his desperation coloring his voice, but he allowed the ropes to drag him backwards to the bed. Not that he had much choice, and they could quite probably hurt him if he struggled too much.

The door opened and she walked in slowly, savoring his discomfort, he could swear. He kept up his steady stream of propositions, despite the fact that the thought of actually touching her made him sick at his stomach. If he could get her to let him loose, to maybe even let him out of this cell, maybe he'd even have a chance of getting away.

_But then, what about Sanviro?_ He cursed the stray thought. He shouldn't be thinking about the other prisoner, he should be thinking of ways to get himself out of here. _Damn it! Why'd he have to be a kid?_

She knelt beside him and he felt the stick of the needle as it punctured his skin. "What does that do?" he asked.

The woman didn't answer him, she just started running her hands over his body, and Jeclarren closed his eyes, wishing he could make this stop, but he was powerless against magic.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Teela waited for Jenkins to stop handing the queen things to sign, but it didn't look likely to happen soon. She had the wind raider ready, she had a guard filling in for her in the communications center, and Jenkins just kept handing Marlena things to sign.

Finally, the queen stood up. "I am coming back, Jenkins," she said firmly. "I am not disappearing into the darkness never to return." She nodded to him and joined Teela by the door. The captain shut the door to the office with an audible thud, and they made their way out to the hangar. The queen was dressed in her armor, and armed to the teeth. Teela had never seen her looking so ferocious as they climbed into the wind raider to head toward Grayskull.

Marlena didn't seem particularly talkative, so Teela remained quiet as she piloted them toward Grayskull, lost in her own thoughts.

Last night's dreams were as ordinary as they could have been, scenes of daily life, nothing unusual or even very memorable. Her father had talked to her for a long while about the utterly meaningless series of dreams she'd had, and then he'd dropped two enormous surprises on her. One was the medical treatment Adam was undergoing today, which had her nervous as a cat. Fury still simmered under the surface of her calm facade at the memory of the other. First Skeletor had sold Adam to the most vile creature imaginable, and now Evil-Lyn knew every detail of the humiliating torment Adam had suffered. Not to mention the misery Raon felt at having betrayed one of his closest friends.

_How does Marlena do it?_ she wondered, glancing briefly aside at the queen. _How does she project this air of unruffled calm?_ She knew that the queen was angry and upset, how could she not be? And it showed sometimes; a glint in her eyes or a set of her jaw revealed the emotions she had locked inside. But for the most part, the only outward sign that the queen was distressed by the recent events was an increased gravity, a deeper solemnity than was her usual wont.

Teela grimaced. The bags under her eyes were a good hint that _something _was wrong, but they were a sign that even iron control couldn't conceal. Teela didn't think she'd ever be able to smother her reactions that way.

She landed the wind raider outside Grayskull. They were only a few minutes late, tribute to her own impatience to get there and see Adam, but she doubted that the queen had even noticed the speed she was flying at.

Marlena was out of the wind raider and striding across toward the drawbridge before Teela even finished deactivating the engine. _Or that she would have objected if she had even noticed,_ the captain thought with some surprise. Leaping out, she followed her queen, joining her just as the drawbridge began to lower.

They crossed the bridge and entered the building. Once they were out of sight, and the drawbridge had closed, Marlena astonished her by reaching out to take her hand, squeezing it tightly. Responding instinctively, Teela squeezed back, and they walked through the halls together, hand in hand.

* * *

Adam worked meticulously on the circuitry of the comlink he had before him. He was so focused that when he sat back, satisfied that he had gotten things back into alignment, he was surprised to see his father sitting across from him.

"That must be very finicky work," he said as Adam laid the tools aside and started to fit the device back together.

"It can be," Adam agreed. "Sometimes you have to rewire the whole thing, though that's actually easier than straightening out what's already there." He slotted the last piece back into position, and then turned the device on. It promptly shorted out completely. For a moment, he stared at it in disbelief. Then, a wave of indignation sweeping through him, he flung it across the room where it smashed against the stone wall.

His father ducked sideways and stared at the destruction. Adam was a little stunned at the strength of his own reaction. Randor turned back toward him and said, "What's wrong?"

Adam looked up at him. "Electronics don't work inside Grayskull," he said, astonished to find his throat choked and his eyes starting to burn with tears. He forced those emotions down, and added, "Duncan _knows _that!"

"I'm sure he just wasn't thinking, son," his father said, eyes wide with comprehension.

"Neither was I," Adam said in a small voice. "Or I would have remembered before I turned the stupid thing on, and fried everything I've been working on for the past hour."

His father was tactfully silent for a moment, then he said, "Actually, I was wondering if you could pause anyway, and help me out for a bit."

Adam tilted his head curiously, shoveling his frustration aside. "Sure, how?"

The king gestured at a significant stack of papers and parchment. "I need all of the documents in this file to be placed in chronological order, with the most recent on the bottom."

It would be boring, but it was better than sitting around doing nothing, and enormously better than sitting around staring at a task he couldn't do effectively. His father smiled as he set to work, starting out by sorting the items by year. "What are all these things?" he asked, looking at them curiously.

"Past rulings by various courts around Eternia regarding property rights," his father said. "Some problems keep cropping up frequently, and I've been meaning to look into how the law is being applied across the country to make sure it's consistent and fair."

"Oh," Adam said, looking down at them. He continued sorting them, catching bits and snippets of the text as he went. Mostly it was dry, ponderous legal jargon, but there were occasional zingers where the judge had been a little more forthright in his or her opinion. "Wow, some of these date back to the time of the Elders."

"I had them give me a sampling across the past hundred years," his father said. "Unfortunately, the fellow who went to pick them up from the various archives they've been stored in dropped them, and the box he'd been carrying them in broke open, so they wound up a bit jumbled."

Adam nodded and they continued their work in silence until Dorgan appeared. "We're ready for you," he said.

"Marlena's not here yet," his father said.

"She just landed outside a moment ago," Dorgan said. "I expect she'll be here any moment."

Adam stood up. "Okay, let's get started," he said. The needles this morning had been bad enough, and he had a feeling this would be worse. As distressed as his mother was by this whole procedure, he didn't want to have some kind of upsetting reaction in front of her. He followed Dorgan into the room and looked at the apparatus that Sevedra and Orko had contrived.

Then he saw the needles they would be putting in his arm. Far larger than normal needles, they chilled him to the marrow. He froze, staring at the enormous things. "Maybe you should knock me out for this," he said faintly.

His father put a comforting arm around his shoulder. "That would mean another shot, Adam."

The prince shuddered. "No, I meant actually knock me out," he said, eyes glued to the needles. "As in hit me on the head."

"No more of your wisecracks, young –" Dorgan broke off as he turned, but Adam barely noticed.

He reached for his father blindly, still staring. "Seriously, Dad," he said. "Knock me unconscious."

"I couldn't do that, Adam."

"You know how," he said. "I know you do."

"I'm not going to hurt –"

Before his father could finish the sentence, Dorgan had crossed to Adam's side and, taking his shoulders in a solid grip, turned him so that he was no longer facing the needles. His head pivoted as the healer moved him, but Dorgan reached out and took his chin gently but firmly, making him turn his head away, too.

"Adam, you know I would never do anything to hurt you," he said, meeting his eyes. Adam nodded, gulping. "Nor would I allow anyone else to hurt you."

"I know," Adam said slowly. "But . . ."

"No buts, my boy," Dorgan said. "We don't have to do this."

Adam shook his head. "No, we do," he protested. "I can't stand having this stuff in me, and it's making it harder for me to get better, isn't it?"

"It is," Dorgan said. "But it won't make all your problems go away either."

"I know that." Adam looked down at the floor. "But I also know that the longer this stuff is in me, the harder time I'm going to have when we finally do get rid of it."

"That's true," Dorgan replied. "Are you ready?"

He nodded very slowly and walked with Dorgan to the bed, keeping his eyes turned away from the needles. He lay back, closing his eyes, allowing the healer to position him according to his needs. His eyes opened in surprise when he felt his father grip his hand, but then he closed them again quickly so that he wouldn't see the needles.

The sharp pain as the first one entered his flesh tied his stomach into knots, and he heard his father grunt softly beside him. He leaned in closer and put his arm around Adam's shoulders, resting his forehead on the top of Adam's head. "It's all right, son," he said softly.

Then the other needle went in, and Adam couldn't help it, he cried out. He turned his face into his father's chest, and let himself break down.

* * *

Randor held his son close, wishing he could do something to calm the shaking, sobbing boy. Gone was the confident young man who had made his decision so solidly yesterday. Carefully coordinating his movements with Dorgan and Sevedra, Randor shifted Adam slightly and lay on the bed beside him, sitting up a little higher than he was. Adam's left arm was straight down from his shoulder and out at a slight angle. The needles protruded from it, leading to the tubes that carried the blood through Orko's spell.

Now Adam leaned against him, face buried in his side, and Randor looked up to see Marlena and Teela standing in the doorway. His wife was white and motionless, and Teela seemed much the same. They were both of them clearly dismayed by Adam's reaction. Marlena walked forward and put her hand on the back of Adam's head.

"Sweetheart?"

His head came up slightly and he said, "Mommy?"

"Yes, it's me," she said, still leaning over them. "It's going to be all right." A moment later, Teela appeared with a low chair that allowed Marlena to sit next to the bed. She herself knelt beside the bed and gazed worriedly on her friend.

Randor stroked Adam's head and murmured encouraging words. His posture was starting to open up slightly, but the king couldn't imagine what this must feel like, especially after all Adam had been through. He'd stiffened up and become very nervous when his blood had been drawn that morning, and had gone white when Dorgan began putting blood into him. This was on an entirely different order of magnitude.

Dorgan kept it going for twenty minutes, then, as Orko sagged to the floor, he rapidly but carefully disconnected Adam from the apparatus.

As soon as his arm was free, Adam rolled over and buried himself in his father's chest, clutching him tightly. "It's over, son," Randor said. "It's done."

After a moment, Adam looked up, eyes red with crying. "Can we go somewhere else?" he asked. Randor glanced over at Dorgan who nodded and made shooing movements. Helping Adam to his feet, the king kept an arm around him as they walked towards the door. Marlena was close beside them, stroking the back of Adam's head. He turned and smiled at her, but seemed to need to focus more heavily on the act of walking.

They were halfway to the sofa in the middle of the sitting room when Adam grabbed at him. "Dizzy," he said, and when Randor looked down into his face, he saw that Adam's eyes were very vague. He scooped him up, and a glance sent Teela running back into the room for Dorgan. Marlena rushed forward and put her hand on Adam's face.

"He's burning up!" she exclaimed.

Randor carried him to the sofa and Marlena brought a throw to cover him with. Then Dorgan pushed them both out of the way, checking Adam's temperature and then his pulse. "You're going to be okay, Adam," he said. "You don't feel too good, but it will pass."

"What's wrong?" Adam asked, staring up. "I feel . . . strange." His mother squatted at the end of the sofa, stroking his hair gently. "No. No sex," he said in a plaintive, pathetic tone. "Please?"

Marlena's eyes widened and she pulled her hands away from him as if she'd been scalded. "Adam, it's me, it's your mother."

He huddled down away from her. Dorgan had turned away for a quiet conference with Sevedra, and now he came back, knelt down and stuck the blood sampling needle in the boy's arm. Adam whimpered, hunching even smaller. Marlena's face was white and pinched, and Teela had put her arms around the queen, her own expression full of horror and distress.

"Should we move him to his bed?" Randor asked quietly.

"Probably," the healer said.

Nodding, Randor gathered Adam into his arms and carried him through into the bedchamber where he sat down on the bed with him. Marlena and Teela followed, as did the healer, and Randor stroked his son's hair. "It's all right Adam, you're with Daddy," he said softly.

Adam snuggled closer. "Daddy," he murmured. "Where'd Mommy go?"

Marlena broke away from Teela and ran to the edge of the bed. "Mommy's here," she said quickly, touching his back tentatively. He turned and threw himself into her arms, sobbing broken-heartedly. Randor bit his lip, pleased that Adam was able to accept comfort from his mother, but desperately worried about that earlier reaction. _No sex?_

* * *

Teela watched helplessly as Adam switched his attention from one parent to the other, clinging tightly to his mother, like a limpet. She felt completely superfluous and out of place, yet she didn't want to leave. She wished there was something she could do to help, but she was lost in a sea of horror and rage. Her hands were clenched at her sides. _What happened?_ she wondered desperately. _Why is he suddenly so sick?_

Dorgan bustled in with some pills and a cold compress. After giving the pills to Adam and waiting while he took them, the healer positioned the compress against Adam's forehead, and Randor reached up and held it. Teela watched, feeling utterly useless as Dorgan bustled out again.

She had her arms crossed tightly on her chest, gazing at her closest friend, the boy she'd grown up with, as he clutched at his parents, eyes vague and confused. Marlena wrapped a blanket around Adam's shoulders and he smiled at her, a pathetic, almost child-like expression of gratitude. The queen began shedding her armor so she could more easily cuddle her son.

Abruptly, Teela heard a rapping sound. Looking out through the open bedroom door, she wondered what it was. Realizing that it was on the outer door of the suite, she turned and went out into the sitting room. _Who is it? Would the Sorceress bother to knock?_

She walked over and opened the door. When she saw who it was, she let out a cry of relief and threw herself into her father's arms. Seeing him loosed the dam that had been holding back a flood tide of emotions, and she found herself clinging to him, weeping.

* * *

Duncan was deeply alarmed when Teela burst into tears in his arms. _What's happened?_ he thought wildly, half-expecting a reply from the Sorceress. None was forthcoming, which only made him worry more.

He guided his weeping daughter back into the sitting room and closed the door behind them, then stood there, just inside the suite, holding her close, desperate to know what was going on.

The door to Adam and Randor's bedchamber was open, but he wasn't at a good angle to see inside. The door to the exam room was likewise, open but at the wrong angle. After a few minutes, he drew gently back from Teela and said, "Dearheart, what happened?"

She just shook her head and gestured toward the bedroom, so he pulled her back into a close embrace, stroking her hair gently.

At that moment, Dorgan emerged from the exam room. He looked up and saw Duncan across the room. The expression on Duncan's face must have been telling because the healer redirected his steps toward them.

He put a hand on Teela's shoulder. "Adam will be fine," he said firmly. Teela stiffened and started trying to regain control of herself.

"What happened?" Duncan asked.

The healer sighed. "He had a predictably bad reaction to the needles, but insisted on going forward, and the procedure went off without a hitch."

Teela turned her head and gave him a watery but incredulous glare. "Without a hitch?" she asked, an almost contemptuous tone in her voice.

"As I said," Dorgan replied calmly, disregarding both the glare and her tone. "Unfortunately, his body is having a profound reaction to the 'introduction,' so to speak, of foreign matter in his bloodstream and is trying to eject it."

"Foreign matter? What –"

"The drug, newly separated from his blood cells," Dorgan said. "His body accepted it as part of his blood until that magical linkage was severed."

"So he's got a fever," Duncan said slowly.

"A very high one, in fact," the healer confirmed. "I've already given him a febrifuge and a cold compress to try to bring it down. It's not serving any useful purpose, there's nothing to kill."

"Why's he gone so strange?" Teela's words burst forth suddenly, as if she'd been holding them back. "You heard what he said to his mother. Why is he . . . what's wrong?"

"He's fevered," Dorgan reiterated. "I'm terribly afraid its making him delirious."

"What did he say?" Duncan asked.

"His mother was stroking his hair," Teela said, her face contorting in an effort not to cry. "And he said, 'no sex.' Why would he say that? Why would he even think that?"

Duncan sighed. "Poor Adam," he said. "It's probably feeling all too distressingly familiar."

"Familiar?" Teela repeated in perplexity.

"Well, how do you feel when you have a high fever?" he asked. "Sort of vague and disconnected from your body. Actions you intend to make don't quite happen the way they should, and you feel easily confused. Much of that mirrors the effects of some of those drugs."

Dorgan's eyes narrowed. "Flashbacks?" he asked worriedly.

"All too likely," Duncan said, nodding. "Is there anything needed?"

"More books, I suspect, but I get the feeling that the Sorceress has been supplying some of those."

Duncan bit his lip. "I'll find something to help keep them entertained."

There was a thump and then a cry. "Let me go!" Adam screamed, and all three of them turned and ran into the bedroom to find Randor struggling with his son, who was trying to get off the bed. "Don't! I don't want to! Please don't make me!"

"Adam," his father exclaimed, holding him firmly. Marlena was sitting on the floor beside the bed looking startled. "No one is going to make you do anything."

Duncan walked forward and helped the queen to her feet.

"I don't care what you say, my father will come for me," Adam said with conviction as he struggled in his father's arms. "He would never leave me here."

"Adam, you're safe, you're with me," Randor said, trying to pull him into a close embrace. The boy wouldn't stop struggling, though, and his eyes had an expression that reminded Duncan strongly of the way he had looked when being led around and handled by Daviona's guards.

"He's having a flashback, Randor," Duncan said. "You're not getting through."

The king shook his head in bewilderment. "How could I remind him of Daviona?" he asked.

"Not Daviona, the guards."

Randor's eyes widened in surprised comprehension, but he didn't release his hold on Adam. There was no knowing what the boy might do in his present state.

Something shoved against the back of Duncan's legs, pushing him hard enough that he stumbled forward, then he saw that Cringer had come into the room. The great cat stared at the scene, then he climbed gingerly on the bed. Teela started forward, looking as if she wanted to pull Cringer away, but Duncan shook his head and caught her arm. "Let him try," he said softly.

Cringer paced up to where Adam was struggling against his father's control and rubbed his head against Adam's shoulder. The boy stiffened in surprise, turning his head to see his pet so close beside him. Cringer rubbed his shoulder again, then licked his cheek. This contact seemed to break Adam out of the nightmare world he was trapped in, and he turned his head back to look at his father. "Daddy?" he said.

"Yes, Adam," Randor said. "It's me." He loosened his hold and Adam leaned forward to pet his cat. Duncan closed his eyes, heaving a sigh of relief.

Marlena moved back toward the bed and tentatively reached out her hand to fondle Cringer's ears. Adam smiled up at her and kept giving the cat long strokes down his back, though his energy seemed to be waning. Sensitive to the vagaries of his mood, Cringer gave Marlena's hand a quick, affectionate rub, then turned toward Adam, rubbing against his shoulder and leaning. After a few moments, Adam yawned and stretched out, leaning up against his father. Cringer, seeming satisfied, stretched out along his master's full length and nuzzled in against his side. Within a few moments, Adam was breathing deeply and evenly, clearly asleep.

Marlena sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to stroke his face. "He's still so hot," she said. "Where's that compress?" Randor picked it up and handed it to her, and she put it on Adam's cheek.

Dorgan took the opportunity to explain what was wrong with Adam to Marlena and Randor. "It should pass off in a couple of days."

"Days?" Marlena exclaimed. "He'll be like that for days?" Teela had gone around to the other side of the bed to pet Cringer, and she looked up at that, her eyes wide.

"He'll be getting better the whole time. I doubt he'll be this badly off tomorrow." Dorgan sighed at their dubious looks. "As the residue of the drugs leaves his system, his body will stop trying to fight off what it perceives as an infection." Looking pensive, he added, "I'll need to make certain that he's actually getting rid of it . . . that it's not lodging in one of his organs . . ."

Marlena looked distinctly worried at this prospect. "Is that likely?"

"I don't think so," Dorgan said. "But I'll need to take samples to be sure."

"More poking and prodding," Randor said softly, looking down at his son.

"Unfortunately, yes," the healer said. "I need to go check on Orko. He's been unconscious since he finished the spell."

"Did we expect that reaction?" Randor asked. "Did he overextend himself?"

"No, and I think he may have," Dorgan said. "Fortunately, glop is even better for him than it is for us, so we should have him up and zooming around in no time."

"Good," Randor said. Duncan took a close look at his king and he didn't like what he saw. Both the king and the queen were clearly having trouble getting enough sleep at night, and with Randor keeping watch on Adam, he couldn't afford to take anything to help him sleep. Duncan wondered how often the prince woke his father up with nightmares.

"Duncan, you look better rested than you did yesterday," Marlena said suddenly. "I'm glad to see that."

"I can't say the same for either of you," he said, drawing a chair closer to the bed and sitting down. "How's he sleeping?" he asked, nodding towards Adam.

"I don't know what he dreams about, because he doesn't seem to be remembering them," Randor said. "But he wakes me up nearly every night at least once or twice."

Marlena leaned down again and stroked his hair. "That vile woman deserves to have her innards dragged out through her bellybutton!"

Duncan hid a smile at the amazed look on Teela's face. He didn't think she'd ever heard the queen speak so forthrightly before. "Well, I don't promise that, my dear," Randor said, "but she will not survive the month if I have anything to say about it."

Pursing his lips, Duncan looked down at his hands. He certainly knew how to put the pressure on. Not that the thought of two young men in her control didn't put plenty of pressure on him. But so far that was all they'd found. The trails had gone cold within ten miles of the last sightings of her, and no one could scent her beyond that. It was making them all crazy, because there was no pattern to the locations where her scent simply vanished. They had plotted them on a map. If it hadn't been for the Andrenids in their party, Duncan would have suspected that she flew, but Buzz Off had assured him that, even if she took to the air, they would have been able to follow her.

Randor reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, and Duncan looked up. "I'm sorry, sire, we really haven't come very close to finding her."

"This is only the third day of intensive searching, my friend," the king said. "Tell me what you've done."

He unfolded the whole of the operation to the king and they discussed options for a long while, both Teela and Marlena joining in periodically with their own insights. Eventually, Adam pushed himself upright and looked at them. "Is there something innately interesting about a sleeping prince?" he asked grumpily. "I wouldn't have thought so, myself."

"I'm sorry, Adam," Randor said. "We'll –"

"Why don't you and Man-at-Arms go out into the sitting room and have a nice long talk?" Adam suggested. "And take Teela."

"Adam!" Teela exclaimed, reaching out and seizing his hand. "It's been days. Do I have to go?"

He looked over at her and gave her a weary kind of grin. "Nice to see you, too," he said. "Come back later, when I'm less . . . awake." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "No, more awake." He snorted. "We can talk later, 'kay?"

Teela nodded, then she impulsively threw her arms around him. Adam returned the hug, and, although Duncan couldn't see his face, he thought he seemed pleased. He certainly didn't seem panicked. Then Teela got up and ran out of the room. Adam sort of half-grinned after her, then turned to his father. "Go, Dad."

"I don't want to leave you alone, son," Randor said.

Adam tilted his head perplexedly. "Mommy's here," he replied, reaching out for Marlena, who cupped his face with her hand, then immediately started seeking for the compress in the blankets.

"Oh, right, of course," the king said, standing up.

Adam turned and looked at his mentor. "Go, Duncan," he said firmly.

Duncan stood up. "I know when I'm not wanted," he said, smiling down.

Nodding, the prince leaned up against his mother, who took Randor's place. "I'll stay," she said. "You two go talk."

Randor rested his hand on each of their cheeks in turn, then walked out of the room, Duncan right behind him.

* * *

Marlena snuggled up beside her son, who smiled at her. "Is that better?" she asked him, pressing her hand against his cheek. He was still so hot.

He nodded. "I love you, Mommy," he said, cuddling in close. "I missed you."

Her heart melted. "I love you, too, Adam," she said.

"I'm sorry I'm acting so weirdly."

"There's nothing to apologize for." Pushing his hair back from his face, she added, "Don't worry about it."

Adam's eyes narrowed with concentration. "Did I knock you off the bed?"

Marlena shook her head. "It doesn't matter, Adam. It was an accident."

"So I did!" he said, looking very alarmed. "Did I hurt you? Are you bruised? Is Father going to be angry with me?"

"No, to all of those questions," she said as reassuringly as she knew how. "I'm fine, and your father isn't angry."

"I hurt you before," he said, looking at the long sleeves she wore to conceal the still healing cuts from his suicide attempt. "I don't want to hurt you."

She bit her lip. She didn't want to tell him it was all right, not when he was in this state. It might prove confusing later. "Don't worry about it, Adam. I'm fine, and I'm here, and I love you."

He sighed and most of the tension left him. "I want to go home," he said softly after a few minutes.

"You can't, not yet, sweetheart," she replied, her heart aching. "It's still too dangerous."

Adam nodded. "_She_ might attack me again," he said unhappily. "Are you going to have to go home tonight?"

Marlena opened her mouth, looking into her son's guileless blue eyes. "No, I'm staying here with you," she said. "It's all arranged." Adam smiled and, giving a small sigh, fell fast asleep, leaving Marlena to wonder just who was going to get the unenviable task of telling Jenkins that she had, in fact, disappeared into the darkness.

She lay back, keeping an eye on Adam, and contemplated the woman who was responsible for putting her son in this state. _How can such callous disregard for other human beings develop? _she wondered. _What nurtures it? Or is it inborn?_

It didn't much matter which, she decided. Daviona's remorseless, relentless self-indulgence would be cut short. Marlena snorted softly. _If one can call a life that has spanned several centuries 'cut short,' that is._

Gradually, she felt herself relax and realized that she was falling asleep.

* * *

Teela stood over Orko who was lying on the bed in the exam room. Sevedra was nearby, cleaning the equipment, and she wasn't sure where Dorgan had gone.

Orko looked so flat when he wasn't floating,. She sat down on the edge of the bed and lifted one of his hands. _Who knew he had this in him?_ she thought wonderingly. For so many years, everyone had discounted their little alien guest as a buffoon. It occurred to her suddenly to wonder if magic was different on Trolla, and if that's why his spells so often backfired.

_Yet this one worked fine,_ she thought, looking over at the apparatus that Sevedra was cleaning. _I wonder why._

He seemed almost like an empty set of clothes when he lay unconscious like this. _I wish I could help him somehow._ She grimaced. _I can't do anything for Adam._ She gazed at the magician, willing him to get up, to awaken. _Maybe he could take energy from me,_ she thought, stroking the back of his hand lightly. On a whim, she closed her eyes and started to concentrate.

After a few moments, she thought she felt a sort of outflow. _I'm probably imagining things,_ she thought dryly as she continued to hold Orko's hand.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Randor saw Duncan pause by the chessboard, looking down at the pieces. "He's taken to chess like a duck to water," he said. "At least recently he has."

"Well, he beats me three out of five games we play," Randor said. "Duncan, it sounds to me as if you're doing all the right things on this search. I'm frankly surprised that she's left this much evidence behind."

His friend nodded, his eyes looking inward. _At what vista?_ the king wondered.

"She's in a hurry, and she was being careless," Duncan said. Grimacing, he went on. "The next time she goes out for supplies, she'll know we've picked up on her activities. That will undoubtedly make her take greater care henceforth."

Randor sighed. "You're right, but we couldn't take the chance, expose so many people to such risks."

"Especially not now that she's demonstrated how dangerous she can be," Duncan said, turning. His eyes sharpened on a point on the floor lear the door, and Randor followed his gaze. He smiled when he realized just what his friend was looking at. "What happened here?" Duncan asked, walking over to squat down and pick up some of the pieces of the comlink Adam had repaired and then destroyed.

"You forgot something there, Duncan," he said, trying not to laugh. Adam's fury that afternoon had been both distressing and comical. When Man-at-Arms looked up at him, a puzzled expression on his face, it was just too much.

He started laughing. If the sound had a tinge of hysteria to it, that was only to be expected under the circumstances. Duncan's brows drew together, and Randor shook his head. "You brought Adam electronics to work on." Duncan nodded . . . and then his eyes widened with shock. "You should have seen his face when he activated the comlink he'd spent an hour painstakingly repairing."

"Oh no!" Duncan groaned.

"It fizzled, he looked stunned, and then he hurled it across the room." He looked down at the pieces. "I suppose I should have picked it up, but I was working myself." As he spoke, the pieces gathered together of themselves and then vanished.

Duncan pursed his lips. "I see everyone's annoyed with me," he said. "Damn! Why didn't I think of that? How stupid could I be?"

Randor was startled by his vehemence. "Anyone can make a mistake," he said.

His friend shook his head. "No, no. I can't believe I did that to him. He's trying to find something to do, and I give him something that can only serve to frustrate him. Under the circumstances, that's just cruel."

"It wasn't that bad, old friend," Randor said. "He got upset, but he got over it."

"What was I thinking?" Duncan asked rhetorically, and the king was growing irritated.

"Enough, already, Duncan," he said firmly. "It was an error, you didn't do it on purpose, and that's an end to it. We'll just have you take the box home with you when you go, and you can bring something else for him to do."

"All right," Duncan said. "I'm sorry. I just –" At Randor's raised eyebrow he fell silent. Then they both turned in surprise as Orko came zooming towards them.

"Is Adam all right?" he asked breathlessly, floating in front of the king.

"He's resting," Randor said, smiling at his erstwhile jester. "Dorgan says your spell worked, but Adam's going to be sick for a few days because of all the chemicals."

Orko floated back a bit, heaving a sigh of relief. "I thought maybe I'd hurt him when Teela said he wasn't well."

Randor shook his head. "No, what you did was very helpful. Thank you, Orko, for all the work you've been doing. It's been absolutely invaluable." The Trollan's eyes widened and he started twisting the hem of his robe.

Teela had emerged from the exam room, and when she saw that Orko was talking to them, she smiled tiredly, walking over to lean against her father's side. She was taking this situation very hard, but Adam had been her best friend since early childhood. Duncan put his arm around her and spoke to Orko. "He's right. There's a lot we wouldn't know, a lot we wouldn't have been able to do without your help, Orko."

The jester put his hands behind his back and looked down, swaying slightly backward and forward. He peered up at Randor from under his hat. "It wasn't anything important," he said.

"I beg to differ," the king said. "What you've done . . . I can never repay you."

Orko looked up suddenly and shook his head. "You don't have to," he said. "I love Adam. He's my friend. Besides, you took me in, gave me a home when I showed up out of nowhere. That's important, too."

Randor smiled. He reached out and squeezed Orko's shoulder. "Well, anyway, thank you."

They stood for a few moments, not speaking, and Randor, excusing himself, went to check up on Marlena and Adam. His son was asleep, and Marlena seemed to be, but her eyes opened as he approached.

"Randor, I'm staying tonight. I told Adam I would."

"Should I go back?" he asked, a little startled.

"I think the kingdom will muddle through one or two nights without us, don't you?" she said, a smile lighting up her eyes.

He blinked, even more surprised by this comment. Bending, he brushed his lips against her forehead. "I'll tell the others."

She rolled towards Adam and went back to sleep. Randor stood and walked into the sitting room, where Teela was yawning enormously. "Duncan, Marlena has decided to stay here tonight. Unless the Sorceress lets us know otherwise, that's what we're going to do."

Duncan raised his eyebrows. "So I have to go back and tell Jenkins that he's not going to have a royal to boss around?" Randor nodded, grimacing slightly. "That sounds like it could be fun." Man-at-Arms knit his brows thoughtfully. "Tomorrow is when our teams change territories," he said. "I'll rotate myself back to the palace. That way I'll be on hand if anything truly urgent comes up."

"Good idea," Randor said. He noticed Teela's eyes light up at this suggestion, which no doubt meant she got to go out into the field.

"I guess we'd better be going," Duncan said. "Sevedra, too, should come back to the palace with us."

The medic emerged from the exam room as he spoke, shouldering a bag. She walked to Dorgan's door and knocked. The old healer emerged, a thick tome in his hands. "Yes? Oh, yes, go. Thank you. Very good work, by the way." Nodding, he shut the door again.

Sevedra turned, smiling. "Are we ready to go?" she asked, walking up to Orko.

"Uh huh," Orko said. "Um, your highness, will you say hi to Adam for me?"

"Of course." He watched them all leave and sighed. Looking towards the ceiling, he said, "Sorceress, I hope you will let us know if we're abusing your hospitality."

"_King Randor, you and your wife are welcome here."_ She paused for a moment. _"How is Adam?"_ she asked.

He walked into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. Marlena shifted slightly, but she didn't wake up. He pressed his hand against Adam's forehead. "He's still fevered," he said quietly. Standing up, he took the compress and wet it in the bathing chamber, putting on Adam's forehead again. "He'll be fine," he added.

"_Indeed he will," _she said. _"You have a fine healer, and you are all taking very good care of him. He could not ask for better friends and family."_

He nodded, and the sense of her was suddenly gone. Trying not to think about the fact that she could probably watch him if she chose to, he got undressed and climbed into bed next to Adam. He stroked his son's hair gently, and slid himself as much under Cringer as was possible. The great cat stirred and looked at him, licked his hand, then shifted so that Randor could lie down. When Randor was settled, Cringer lay down atop him.

After checking Adam's temperature one more time and adjusting the compress, Randor closed his eyes and went to sleep himself.

* * *

Daviona licked her lips sensuously. Breakfast had been delicious, and now it was time to feed her pets. She had set out trays for each of them. Bacon and an egg wrapped in pan-fried bread, fruit in sweet sauce, and a little green syringe.

The green drug was very useful, since it eliminated the need for cumbersome bonds and made it very clear to the young men that, despite her comparative size and strength, they were completely in her power. The loss of her collar still rankled. That, too, had been of enormous aid, but there was nothing to be done.

She stood up from her table and walked over to the first of the two doors, the room containing the boy called Sanviro. He lay on his back, and the blanket had slipped down around his waist, revealing his well-muscled torso. His eyes were closed, but she wasn't altogether certain that he was asleep. Probably he was, he had proven to be a very modest young man. His hair was light brown and straight, and he had sweet features, almost angelic.

Reaching up to the metal panels, she activated the ropes, binding him down. He stirred, but did not seem to wake. She opened the door and picked up his tray, walking into the room. She had not given either of them clothing. For one thing, it made them more aware of how dependent they were on her, and for another, she simply didn't have the resources just now to clothe them.

That would be amended soon, she thought, setting the tray down on the floor and picking up the syringe. His eyes snapped open when she injected him, and he looked at her, brows drawing together in a quite endearing expression of dismay.

He wet his lips, and leaned up as far as he could. "Lady, I am to be married in the spring. You must let me go."

Daviona tilted her head, amused by the thought that so young a boy was set on marrying. She bent to kiss him on the lips, but he turned his head away. She caught his chin and turned him back, kissing him firmly. "You are mine, sweet thing," she said, drawing back from him. Brushing his hair back from his forehead, she smiled and proceeded to feed him.

Then she left him to allow the drug time to take full effect.

Jeclarren, too, was still asleep, and Sanviro hadn't been loud enough to awaken him. He was sprawled on his stomach, his golden blond hair spread out on the bed. Yesterday he had tried to persuade her that she didn't need her drugs, that she didn't need to do anything to him, that he'd give her whatever she wanted.

He was a charming boy, but he didn't know what she wanted, and he couldn't provide it without both help and training. His features were somewhat more rugged than Sanviro's, more impish than angelic. They made an adorable pair.

She activated the ropes, which took the boy and rolled him onto his back. He woke as they touched him and started to struggle. "Now, don't do that, sweet thing," she said. He turned his head, staring at the door. His body went limp and he allowed the ropes to position him. She picked up the tray and walked into the room.

He looked up at her, green eyes wide and full of desperation. "Please untie me," he said. "I can give you pleasure you've never experienced before!" His voice was a mix of bravado and fear.

She put the tray down on the floor and picked up the syringe. "And you will," she said, "when I'm ready."

"Not more drugs!" he exclaimed as she injected him. "Why are you doing this?" She didn't answer, merely starting to feed him his breakfast. He turned his face away, trying to avoid the food. When she drew her hand back, he said, "I want you to answer my question!"

She shrugged and put the food back on the tray. Most fellows wouldn't skip more than one or two meals, and this was the first that Jeclarren had refused. She walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

He would eat lunch, and if he didn't, he would eat dinner. If he grew more stubborn than that, there were ways of dealing with that, too.

She put the tray down on the table next to Sanviro's empty one, and then turned back to the first door. Breakfast was over, now it was time for more training.

* * *

Adam woke up feeling very hot and very confined. He started to panic, thinking for a moment that he was back in Daviona's lab room, tied down to a table, but the feeling was wrong for that. He opened his eyes and saw brown hair tumbled across the pillow in front of him. There was a purr vibrating his knees, and there was someone else close behind him.

_Mother?_ he thought, looking at the cascade of hair. His left arm ached, and he wondered why. Then he remembered the medical procedure, Orko's spell, his own humiliating collapse. He had some vague and confusing memories of events after that, but they were jumbled and unclear.

His mother was in front of him, his father was behind him and Cringer lay atop all three of them. Adam shifted around so that he was on his back. There was a slightly damp object under his head. He reached up and pulled it out. It seemed to be a cloth folded into a narrow rectangle. One of the words coming to mind out of that jumble was 'fever.' That would explain the jumble, he supposed. And how hot he felt right now. Though that might have a more mundane explanation given the crowded state of the bed.

He struggled into a sitting position and tried to evaluate what his best exit route would be to avoid waking up his parents. Cringer was already awake and watching him with his yellow eyes half closed. Adam started trying to slide himself gently out from between his parents. Before he moved much more than an inch, however, both of them stirred.

His mother rolled over and sat up. "Adam, how are you feeling?" she asked, reaching up and putting her hand on his cheek. "You feel much cooler. Randor, fetch Dorgan."

His father, who had just rolled over as well, started to get off the bed, but the door, which was standing slightly open, opened still further. "Dorgan does not need to be fetched," the healer said as he entered. "Good morning. Adam's temperature is, in fact, considerably lower this morning."

"When did you check it?" Marlena asked skeptically.

"An hour ago, three hours ago, five hours ago . . ." He smiled. "You've been sleeping quite soundly, all of you."

"I saw you," Adam's father said. "Twice."

Dorgan nodded. "Well, I'd say it's time for some royal baths and breakfast. I let you all sleep yourselves out because none of you has been getting enough sleep, but I really didn't expect you to sleep this long."

Adam stretched. "Mother should get to go first," he said.

"No, Adam, you –"

"While this self-sacrifice is quite touching, there are three bathing chambers in this suite," Dorgan said. "I suggest we leave your husband and son to muddle through their own bathing while I take you to my own bathing chamber, my queen."

"Thank you, Dorgan," she said. She got up and gave Adam a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back shortly, Adam," she said.

Adam stood up and stretched, his father nearby doing the same thing. Cringer outdid them both, stretching on the bed, his back arching and his rear end rising high into the air. At the furthest point in his stretch, the cat let out a high pitched squeak that made both the others laugh. Cringer sat up on his haunches and wrapped his tail around his feet, looking affronted.

After giving his cat a quick scratch on the ears, Adam head toward the bathing chamber. He did his business, then went and started the water for a bath. He had a feeling Dorgan wanted his father to keep an eye on him while he bathed, a feeling that was confirmed when his father called out, "Don't climb in until I get there, son."

Adam leaned against the side of the tub. "I'm not that fevered, am I?" he asked as his father came in. "I feel a little light-headed and hot, but not too bad, really."

"Well, you're a lot more lucid this morning than you were last night," his father said. "But we're a little concerned."

Adam blinked, getting undressed and climbing into the tub. "Was I delirious?" he asked.

"You were a bit, and I think you may have had some flashbacks." Randor sat down and shrugged. "But it was nothing too troubling."

The water felt warm against his skin, but there was something different about the way he felt. He couldn't put a finger on it right away. Cupping some water in his hand, he let it slide down his arm . . . it felt . . . "My skin is less sensitive," he said as realization hit abruptly. "I hadn't even noticed it was still more sensitive than normal until now, but it's gone."

"Good," his father said, but Adam wasn't altogether sure what to think or how to feel about it. Things felt less . . . less complete now, somehow less real. He'd become accustomed to that level of sensation, and now that it was gone . . . well . . . maybe he'd get used to that again, too.

Of course, it probably meant that he wouldn't constantly feel everything. It was hard to concentrate on other things when he could constantly feel the way his clothing was shifting on his body. He finished his bath quickly and got dressed while his father was bathing. As he pulled on a clean pair of pants, he was pleased to find that it didn't feel remotely sensual. It just felt normal.

He sat down, grinning despite his light-headed, feverish feeling. "This is much better," he said. "Why do I have a fever?" When his father explained, he shrugged. "But it'll go away, and then I'll be back to normal, right?"

Adam nodded impatiently as his father reminded him that he still had the conditioning drug in his body, and that this wasn't a cure-all for everything. It was a start, and that's all he wanted. A start on getting to be himself again.

When his father finished and was dressed, they went into the sitting room where they were greeted by the mouthwatering smell of cinnamon toast. Alongside the toast, there was porridge with fruit. Life was definitely looking up again, even if there was a little cup of pills next to his plate.

They ate breakfast in companionable silence. It was nice to see both of his parents together. Dorgan claimed him almost immediately after breakfast for a few tests, and then he closed himself into his little mini-infirmary. Adam spent the next few hours with both his parents, playing games and just talking. He had to be careful though, more than once he almost said something that would have revealed his secret. One of those times, he would have spoken if Cringer hadn't stepped on him with his claws out just enough to get his attention.

In the mid-morning, he began to yawn, and both his parents insisted that he lie down with Cringer. Amid much protesting that he wasn't tired, he lay down and, much to his surprise, he slept for about an hour.

Lunch was another pleasant meal. Soup, a fresh green salad and bread warm from the oven. Where the oven was, Adam wasn't sure, since the meal appeared on the table without any sign of its origin. Adam ate ravenously. He felt like he hadn't been eating enough for days. Both his parents watched him with indulgent smiles, but Dorgan's expression was more closed. After lunch, they all stood up from the table, and before the healer could disappear off into his work space, Adam said, "Dorgan?"

He turned, and Adam caught an odd look on his face before he smoothed it away. The healer gave him a smile and said, "Yes, my prince?"

"What are you worried about?" Adam asked, and there was a flicker of dismay in Dorgan's eyes. "What are you thinking?"

His father came up beside him, putting an arm around his shoulder. "Dorgan, is there something you need to tell us?"

The healer walked back towards them, his expression very grave. "We're going to have to do that procedure several more times," he said, and Adam felt cheer begin to drain from him.

"More times?" he repeated. He'd known that, logically, but he'd forgotten in the joy of the moment.

"Two-fifths of the drugs have been detached from your blood cells, which is actually slightly more than I predicted," Dorgan continued. "I'm just concerned, that's all."

Adam looked up into the healer's face thoughtfully, then shrugged. "I knew that," he said. "I wasn't thinking about it, but I knew that." Dorgan nodded. "But it's working," Adam said, feeling the cheer come back. "I'm feeling better already, even with the fever. So we have to do it again, so what? That just means I'll feel even better after that."

Dorgan smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "Good," he said. "I'm glad you feel that way."

Grimacing Adam looked down. "I don't promise to react any differently to the . . . the . . . well, you know."

Dorgan nodded. "Well, I have some more work to do. And I need some more samples."

Giving his dad a grin, Adam went off with Dorgan to give him what he needed. His parents were sitting close together, talking quietly when he returned, and he sneaked up behind them.

"But he's so sick, Randor. Maybe we should see if Orko can come up with some other solution."

"Marlena, you heard Adam, it's working."

"He said he didn't think he could –"

"Mom, it's okay, really," Adam said, grinning at their starts of surprise. "So I'll grab on to someone and get flaky for awhile, it'll pass, right?" Part of this was an act for his mother's benefit, but mostly it was true. He didn't think his father was going to suddenly decide there was something wrong with him at this point.

"Adam, you shouldn't have been listening," his father said, and Adam grimaced, looking down at his feet. "But –" His father paused and grabbed his chin, making him look up again into his smiling face. "I'm glad you feel that way."

Adam shrugged in mild embarrassment. "Well, I don't like it, but it could be worse, right?"

His mother got up suddenly and gave him a huge hug. For a moment, he was frozen with astonishment, but then he hugged her back. "I'm going to be okay, Mom," he said. And for the first time, he believed it.

* * *

Midway through the day, when she returned to Snake Mountain from checking on a few of her more far flung experiments, Evil-Lyn wandered into the throne room. It was always wise to make an appearance, for one never knew when Skeletor would be there. Lately he'd been away most of the time, she wasn't sure where. It was extremely irritating.

She walked in and found him sitting in his throne, jawbone resting in his hand as he leaned on it, glowering at nothing, his eyes glowing a sullen red. Apart from him, the room was empty, and she wondered why none of the sycophants was hanging about. Perhaps he had chased them all away. She reached to seize a bit of shadow so that she could escape before he noticed her, but his eyes lit on her as she moved.

"Evil-Lyn," he said neutrally. It was a greeting of sorts, she supposed.

Nodding her head slightly, but not moving closer, she said, "Skeletor."

"What would you do if you had a power source the size of Prince Adam at your command?" he asked, and she could tell that it wasn't an idle question.

It was a dangerous one to answer truthfully, however. "Why, Lord Skeletor, I would offer him up to you, of course."

"Politic answer," he replied. "After that. What spell would you choose to use it for?"

She started walking towards him. "I have no training in such magics. I haven't the faintest idea."

"You, admitting to limitations, Evil-Lyn?" he asked, his voice dripping with contempt.

Shrugging elegantly, she stopped at the base of the steps leading to his throne and stood in a calculatedly insolent posture. "You're not going to make me feel insecure, Skeletor. What are you on about?"

"Have you been in the chamber where we auctioned him off since that time?" he asked. Puzzled by the question, she shook her head. "I went in there and did a spell to sense ambient magic. Right at the point where he stood, there is a dim glow of power. I'm surprised you didn't sense it coming off him in waves." There was a dry irritation in his voice as he said that last, for Skeletor didn't have her innate ability to sense magical energy.

"I have to engage my othersight to see it, Skeletor," she said just as dryly. "I had no reason to think there was cause to look."

He stood up, dismissing her comment with a wave of his hand. "Regardless, I want that power. With access to it, I could take Grayskull, topple Randor, and rule all of Eternia." As he had spoken, he'd raised his hands in the air, his voice ringing with determination.

_Melodramatic fool,_ she thought, sighing. He seemed to sense that her reaction was less than enthusiastic, and he glared down at her, walking slowly down the steps.

"Have you lost interest in those goals, my dear Evil-Lyn?" he asked, a slight air of menace about him as he reached her.

"No, Lord Skeletor, of course not," she replied. "How do you plan to access his power? I don't see you choosing Daviona's route."

If he'd still had a face, his eyebrows would have gone up. She could still imagine that face and its expressions quite clearly, and often saw them in her mind's eye. As it was, his brow ridges, unnaturally flexible for solid bone, raised. "No, I think not," he said. "Actually, I have found a round dozen spells that would allow me to enslave the boy's power to my use, only eight of which involve sexual activity."

"Only eight of them?" she asked, her lips twitching.

"And of the remaining four, one requires that we drink one another's blood." He shook his head in disgusted negation. "So that leaves three."

"Have you selected one?"

"No. Part of it depends on Adam himself." He looked up at her. "Does it strike you as odd that the boy shows no sign of magical ability, yet he's bursting with magical energy?"

It had, but she wasn't going to tell Skeletor that. Nor was she going to tell him that she'd been doing a bit of research of her own. "It does happen, from time to time," she said negligently, as if relating a trivial piece of information. "In magical literature they're referred to as 'wells.' There are people to whom magical power is drawn, in whom it pools. They have no ability to use the energy they store, but if you can find one and draw from them, it can double or even triple your power reserves."

"I see," he said, eyes glinting redly with annoyance. "And it never occurred to you to share this little tidbit?"

She looked coyly up at him. "Why, Skeletor, I assumed you knew." It was a game they both played, this subtle one-upsmanship. He gazed down at her, his eyes slowly fading to blackness again.

"Naturally," he said. He turned away, declaiming to the room at large, despite the fact that it was empty apart from them. "When the others get back, we will be setting out to take Grayskull. According to Tri-Klops, the entire royal family is there, so it's a perfect opportunity.

Evil-Lyn wondered if he knew that his last meeting with Randor had been caught on a doomseeker. Keeping her face straight, she tilted her head. "Skeletor, didn't you say you wanted access to the power within Prince Adam in order to take Grayskull?"

He turned back, his gaze heavy with malevolence. "Yes," he intoned.

Knowing that she was taking her very life into her hands, but unable to resist, she said, "Then how do you plan to take Grayskull in order to get Prince Adam?"

"I do not plan to 'take' Grayskull precisely. I merely plan to get inside."

Evil-Lyn managed to contain the incredulous snort that threatened to burst from her, though the muscles of her throat would be sore for a week from the effort it took. He swept away, leaving her to follow in his wake, wondering what difference he thought there was between the two.

* * *

Duncan paced in the communications center. Jenkins had been none too pleased the night before when he had arrived and informed him that the queen would not be returning to the palace that evening. Muttering something about darkness, he had stomped off, which Duncan took to mean that there were no pressing crises.

He hadn't seen Randor's secretary yet this morning, so he had high hopes that the day would pass smoothly as far as kingdom business went. Teela's group had reported no luck so far in her sector, and Mekanek's group had started sweeping the countryside.

Lunch was delivered by a servant, and Raon reported there as he'd ordered. Marlena had told him that she'd been making sure that he take lunches and breaks, so, because she wasn't there, he'd taken it on himself to do so.

Looking irritable, Raon sat down with Duncan and his fellow watchstander, a female constable called Aeris, and began eating lunch. They were midway through the meal when there was a beeping. Nodding to Aeris to keep her seat, he went to the unit. "Man-at-Arms here."

"Sir, there are griffins headed toward Grayskull," said the voice of one of his team. "Five or six."

"Sound the alert!" Duncan called. "I'm on my way."

He turned to find Aeris girding for battle. "No, Aeris, I need you to stay here and monitor communications, in case someone calls with a sighting of Daviona."

Pursing her lips, she nodded shortly. Raon looked torn, but Duncan just shook his head and ran out. He joined the others in the air as they headed to Grayskull. He only hoped they'd be in time.

* * *

Adam and Marlena were playing chess, and Randor was feeling decidedly inadequate, so he'd stopped watching, opting instead to read a book by the window. He looked up at a motion outside, expecting to see a bird or animal.

It was an animal, for certain. It was a griffin. He ran into the bedroom and started pulling his armor on. Grabbing up his sword he turned to find Adam staring at him. The boy ran to the window and looked out, letting out a muffled oath.

"Stay here, both of you," Randor said, striding toward the door.

"_No, stay there all of you,"_ the Sorceress said, and Randor could tell by their reactions that both Marlena and Adam had heard her as well. He reached for the door, but the knob would not turn. _"You must stay there, king of Eternia."_

"It seems I have no choice," he said angrily.

"_Forgive me,"_ she said, and now he saw no sign whatsoever that the others could hear her. _"The masters are on their way, and Skeletor is after Adam specifically this time. I don't know what he wants with him, but I have had a vision. I don't know how, but if you go out there, Skeletor will succeed in seizing Adam."_

Randor gritted his teeth and glared up at the ceiling. _"I don't like hiding behind walls while my men go to fight,"_ he thought firmly hoping she would hear him.

"_I know,"_ she said softly, and then all sense of her was gone.

He looked around at Marlena, who stood with her arms around Adam. His son looked both frightened and furious. Marlena, predictably, looked icily calm. Dorgan had just emerged from his chamber, eyes wide.

Randor walked to the window and stood looking out. There was little enough he could see, they were too close to the castle. To his surprise, a moment later Cringer appeared at his elbow, looking out the window. The fur along his spine stood straight up, and he was glaring down. A growl emerged from low in his throat, and his tail lashed back and forth. Randor agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiments.

_Skeletor will pay,_ he thought in impotent fury. _Skeletor will pay._

* * *

Evil-Lyn glanced around. Beastman, Tri-Klops and Trap Jaw were gathered behind them, but they were facing towards the castle, not away from it as they should be if they planned to guard her back and Skeletor's. There were moments when she just wanted to chuck them all as a bad lot, Skeletor for inventing ludicrous plans and the others for being stupid enough to guarantee that the occasional good ones failed as well.

This was one of those moments. Certainly, they had repeatedly managed to lower the drawbridge partway many times, and even all the way on a number of occasions, but thus far that had done them no real good.

Skeletor stepped forward, and she went with him. Joining hands with him, she combined her power with his seamlessly. They directed their conjoined powers toward the drawbridge, pulling it gradually, painfully, away from the wall. A green energy reached out and resisted their pull, but together they were just enough stronger to be able to drag the bridge down, not steadily, not in large increments, but down nevertheless.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Duncan flew as fast as his sky sled would carry him, hoping against hope that Skeletor hadn't found some incredibly powerful item that would enable him to get into the castle before they got there.

"_Man-at-Arms!"_ the Sorceress called. _"Skeletor does not seek the power of Grayskull – he seeks Prince Adam."_

"Adam?" he exclaimed aloud. _"Why?"_

"_I do not know why. I only know that it is so. You must get here quickly, before Randor does something foolish."_

"Man-at-Arms!" Ram-Man called. "What about Adam?"

Duncan shook his head. _"I'm going as fast as I can, Sorceress, and I've got as many of the masters as could reach us."_

"_Know this, if Randor joins this fight on the field before Grayskull, Skeletor will win. You must deter that at all costs."_

Duncan let off a stream of curses and thumbed his sled's comlink on. "Aeris!" he called.

"Yes, sir?"

"Get the army mobilized and headed toward Grayskull on the double. They're needed to help protect the royal family."

"Yes, sir!"

* * *

When the sounds of fighting started behind them, Evil-Lyn knew the end was near, but she dared not turn, dared not break eye contact with the bridge. It would not be her fault that the plan failed. Skeletor broke away and began to fight, but not until some physical object hit the minimal shielding she had placed behind her did she stop. It gave her a heady rush to realize that she had, for a time, held her own against the Sorceress of Grayskull, one on one.

The sight that met her eyes when she turned, activating full shielding, was astonishing. Rather than the paltry handful of warriors who made up the so-called 'masters of the universe,' there was an army at their backs.

Skeletor fought face to face with Man-at-Arms, and she was terribly afraid that his old enmity for Duncan would blind him to the folly of staying against these odds. Beastman was, it was true, cutting a wide swath through the soldiers, and Tri-Klops was holding off several of the masters. But Trap Jaw was being beaten soundly by Ram-Man, and Tri-Klops didn't see that Mekanek was coming up behind him.

Lowering her staff, she blasted Mekanek and Ram-Man, then quickly turned and hit Duncan as well. Skeletor looked up, startled, and seemed to see their situation abruptly. "Retreat!" he called, and they all leapt aboard their griffins and took off.

He would be angry later that she had ended his fight so abruptly, but his anger was easier to bear than imprisonment at the hands of the 'masters.'

* * *

Randor gripped his sword tightly as he saw the first of the masters, Mekanek, Sy-Klone and Roboto arrive with a group of five ordinary warriors. They engaged the three of Skeletor's minions who were not engaged in the effort to bring the drawbridge down.

He was so focused on the fighting, that his son had to shake him twice before he heard him speak. "Father, look!"

"What?" Randor raised his eyes and he saw what appeared to be hundreds of sky sleds and dozens of troop transports approaching. They landed near the castle and charged toward the drawbridge and the five enemies that stood there.

"Duncan brought the army," Marlena said in wonderment, and Randor could see that she was right. There was Duncan, leading the charge. When he came face to face with Skeletor, Randor wanted to jump down through the window.

"I should be down there fighting," he growled. To his surprise, Cringer snarled an agreement. Randor wondered abruptly if the Sorceress had somehow conveyed Skeletor's intent to him, because this was such out of character behavior for the great green cat.

Adam groaned, and Randor followed the direction of his gaze. Beastman was mowing down soldiers with great sweeps of his arms. Some of those who fell seemed to have great raking gashes in their bodies. Dorgan stepped back from the window. "I have to go out there!" he called. "They need me."

There was no answer, not that Randor expected any. He turned to Dorgan. "She can't lower the drawbridge to let you out, Dorgan. That would defeat the purpose those men are fighting for."

There was a massive crash as the last of the violet energy that was attempting to pull the drawbridge down released its hold, allowing the bridge to slam shut. Randor cursed aloud as he saw Evil-Lyn turn and start blasting the masters, but a moment later, Skeletor called the retreat, evidently not liking his odds with so many troops bearing down on them.

They flew away on their griffins, and Randor glared after him as they went. Not until they were out of sight did the Sorceress release her hold on the door, and even then, Randor turned to Adam. "You must stay here, son. Promise me."

"Father, I –" Adam protested.

"Adam, I do not ask this promise lightly," he said urgently. Dorgan was already gone. "You must trust that I have a good reason apart from paternal concern. Promise me."

Adam bit his lip, but said, "I promise." Randor nodded once, gave Marlena's hand a quick squeeze, and left he room at a run.

* * *

Duncan got up from the ground, shaking his head to clear it of the ringing left by Evil-Lyn's blow. Damn that woman, anyway! The drawbridge came down as he tried to recover his wits, and across it came Dorgan at a dead run, heading straight for the wounded with a medical kit in hand.

A moment later, Randor came out and Duncan had a chill in his gut, remembering the Sorceress' prediction. _If he joins the fight,_ he reminded himself. _The fight is over._ The king ran up to him and they clasped hands. "Are you well, Duncan?"

He grimaced. "Well enough. How's Adam, today?"

"The fever is down, and he's very happy with the results of the treatment," Randor said, then he looked around the field. "The army . . . it was a good thought, but why did you bring them?"

"The Sorceress called me," Duncan said shortly. "She gave me –"

Randor interrupted. "Does she often have visions of what's to come?"

Duncan drew his brows together, surprised by the question. "From time to time," he said slowly. "What did she tell you?"

"That she'd had a vision that Skeletor was after Adam, and that he would try to use me to secure him. I didn't know she was a seeress."

Gulping, Duncan nodded. "She's an oracle," he said. "But that isn't widely known." Randor nodded thoughfully. "She told me that I had to keep you from feeling the need to join the battle at all costs."

"So you brought the army," Randor said, looking out over the field. "I must visit the wounded and speak with the officers."

Duncan fell in beside his king as he made his rounds of the troops in the field. It was a source of constant wonder to him how Randor managed to interact so smoothly with everyone he spoke to. By nature, Duncan was a taciturn man. Though he knew nearly as much about the men of the army as did Randor, he could not have been half so comfortable talking with them as his king did. It was one of those small gifts that made him a great leader of men.

As they made their way among the troops, Randor skillfully deflected questions about Adam and his condition, giving people tidbits of information that would satisfy them without telling them too much. After a few minutes though, a voice called from a group they had just passed. "Prince Adam!" They turned to look at the man who had called, and saw that he was pointing upwards at where Adam was just visible in a window high in one of the towers. His mother was next to him, an arm around his shoulders. It was difficult, at this distance, to see Adam's expression, but after a moment he waved.

There was a great cheering all around them, and Duncan glanced around to see that the soldiers were waving their arms enthusiastically. Randor was grinning broadly, his shoulders thrown back proudly at this spontaneous expression of regard? approval? adoration?

After a short time, Marlena drew Adam back from the window, and the soldiers began talking excitedly amongst themselves. Their questions became harder to deflect, though Randor managed it with startling aplomb. When they had completed their rounds, most of the wounded had already been transported back to the palace for treatment, and the rest of the troops were gathering up to leave.

Duncan turned to Randor and said, "Perhaps we should leave some men outside the castle, just as a deterrent."

"We're already imposing on the Sorceress' hospitality as it is," Randor replied. "She has jealously guarded her privacy for many years. She may not take well to having a camp of soldiers on her front doorstep."

Duncan looked up at the imposing face of the castle and waited for comment. Hearing none, he turned back to Randor. "Two things. First, if she had an objection, she would have voiced it by now. She pays very close attention to what goes on just outside her walls. Second, Skeletor clearly knows now, that you're here. We need to have a first line of defense, in case they get past our scouts and patrols."

"And he's after Adam, again. Why, though? Why would he take me to use as a bait for Adam? What's changed?"

Duncan shook his head. "I don't know. Let me get a garrison set up, and then I'll come inside and discuss it with you."

"Adam doesn't know," Randor said worriedly. "She told me, but she didn't tell Adam or Marlena." The king shook his head. "I can't keep it from Marlena, but is there a reason to keep it from Adam?"

"_Adam does not need to know until he is outside these walls,"_ the Sorceress said suddenly, and Duncan saw that Randor heard her, too.

"What do the walls have to do with it?" Randor asked.

"_He has sworn to protect Grayskull, as have all the masters. Knowing that Skeletor is attacking the castle to get to him might lead him into folly."_

Randor's eyes narrowed. "That's not going to change. He's not going to react well to having people hurt on his behalf either."

"Adam doesn't like it when we keep things from him," Duncan said with as much neutrality as he could muster, attempting to get his message across to the Sorceress without letting Randor know that there was more to it than met the ear.

"_No, that is true,"_ the Sorceress said, and Randor looked inquisitive. Duncan just gave him an 'I'll tell you later' shake of the head. _"You must do as you think best, King Randor."_

Randor nodded, raising an eyebrow. "I will," he said dryly, and Duncan winced internally at the tone. Two dominant personalities – a subject they both felt authoritative about – not a good combination. And Randor had no idea that the Sorceress had reason to be authoritative about Adam.

Duncan cleared his throat. "So let me get the garrison set up, and I'll join you in your suite shortly."

Randor, still looking a little perturbed and a touch territorial, nodded and turned back toward the castle. Duncan watched him go, thinking that their secret was going to have to stand up under close scrutiny – and wondering if it could.

* * *

Adam was shaking his head in astonishment as his mother led him away from the window. "Duncan brought the army," he said. It must have been the third time he said it, but he couldn't stop repeating it. It was such an unexpected move.

"Yes, he did," his mother said as they sat down on the sofa. "All the masters and the army." She tilted her head, looking thoughtful. "I wonder where He-Man is."

Adam blinked, trying to think of some plausible explanation. "Um . . . I'm sure he's busy."

"No doubt," she said, nodding. "He must have other responsibilities aside from us."

"Yeah," Adam said. "I mean, there's Skeletor, Snakemen, Marzo . . ." He was counting these off on his fingers. "And then there's always things like random idiots who decide to play at magic. 'I want to

get back at my neighbor so I'm going to call an entity from the abyssal plane and . . .'" Adam paused, caught in a vivid memory of that incident. "And then he loses control of the entity and it eats him and tries to eat the whole town."

"I don't remember hearing about that," his mother said, bringing Adam suddenly and firmly back to himself.

"Oh, it was on the Southern Continent. But demons are pretty dangerous and don't recognize borders, so He-Man went to deal with it."

His mother nodded. "So, do you and he talk a lot about his activities?" she asked curiously.

"Um . . ." This question had caught him flat-footed with no idea what to say. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Really?" She smiled. "I'm glad to know he has some support."

Adam gave her a startled look. "Mom, he has all the masters. It's not like he's out there alone."

"At night?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "The masters aren't with him all the time, Adam. What does he do when he's not saving the world?"

Nonplussed, Adam goggled briefly. It had never occurred to him that people who didn't know the secret must wonder where He-Man went after the battles were over. He was always too busy attempting to explain where Prince Adam went during the battle to give it much thought.

"Where does he live? What does he do for a living? It's not as if we pay him for his work." Marlena sighed. "I worry that he goes to his home at night not knowing how much we truly appreciate him."

"Oh, he knows," Adam said hastily. "He's not worried about that kind of thing, actually. And he does have Battlecat." Cringer came up and stuck his head under Adam's hand, and he started scratching him absently.

"Yes, he does," she agreed.

"With that huge cat, he doesn't really need blankets, even," Adam said, and Cringer leaned against him, purring.

His mother tilted her head. "Well, I've often wondered if he ever does get cold. Those garments of his are very . . . brief."

"Tell me about it," Adam said disgustedly. Teela wasn't the only woman who stared at He-Man, and it got a little uncomfortable at times. After Daviona, though, that thought made him shudder, feeling sort of queasy. "He's got women staring at him all the time," he said, nausea roiling in his gut. "Teela has a crush on him." It was odd to think of Teela fantasizing about He-Man, wanting him . . . "Mom!" She was already looking concernedly at him, now she leaned forward and took his hand. "Do you think Teela wants to . . . wants to have s . . ." he shook his head, unable to say the word, " with He-Man?"

His mother bit her lip. "I doubt she's thought about it, Adam, truthfully."

That made him feel a little better. "Really?" he asked and she nodded. "That's just creepy."

She put an arm around his shoulders. "Well, it's not likely to happen, now is it? He's always been very circumspect. Does he know she has a crush?" Adam nodded. "Well, then, he's a good man. He'd never take advantage of her innocence."

"I don't think he has sex," he said in a rush.

"Oh. How long have the two of you been talking like this?" she asked, and Adam felt cornered.

"Since the beginning," he said. He stood up. "I have to go . . . to the privy." He got up hastily and walked across the room, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it. That conversation had gotten more than a little out of hand. Adam closed his eyes and rested his head against the door. What was he going to say if she asked him more about He-Man later?

* * *

Randor walked into the room to find Marlena standing in the middle of the sitting room looking worriedly at the privy door. She turned as he entered and said, "He got upset and went in there, and I don't dare follow him, but we're not supposed to leave him alone."

At least, he assumed that's what she'd said, he didn't listen much past 'upset' and 'in there.' He was too busy knocking and going inside.

Adam was sitting on the seat, but he was fully dressed and had his head in his hands. Randor walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "Adam, son, what's wrong?"

His son shook his head. "It's nothing," he said, his voice muffled by his hands. "I'm just being stupid."

"I don't believe that, Adam," Randor said. "What is it?"

"Teela wants to have sex with He-Man," he burst out. "I never could tell before, but now . . . now I can see . . . and it's the most revolting thing I ever heard."

Randor shook Adam's shoulder gently. "We could talk this over more comfortably in the other room," he said. "And if –"

"I don't want to talk about it," Adam said. "I don't want to think about it. How can she want to do _that_ with _him?_"

Randor opened his mouth and then closed it again. He wasn't sure just what Adam was objecting to, and if he didn't want to talk about it now, his father needed to respect that. "Well, then, why don't you come out into the sitting room and the three of us will play a game?"

Adam looked up at him. "You know, it's been years and years since we all spent this much time together," he said. His expression was almost forlorn. "I don't know how I'll go back to things as they usually are."

This hit the king like a blow to the gut. He realized just how little time he'd spent with his son over the last few years. He'd thought Adam was growing away from him, but how could the boy help it when Randor made no effort to spend time with him?

Abruptly, Adam jumped up. "Father, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be complaining, I know. I'm just babbling. I'm sorry, I know you have –"

"Important things to do?" Randor asked, and Adam nodded miserably, turning to leave the room. Randor caught his arm and pulled him into a hug. "Nothing is more important to me than you and your mother."

Adam hugged him back, and when Randor drew away to say something more, he saw that his son was crying. The tears were gentle, no sobbing, no heaving shoulders, but Adam looked away, obviously embarrassed.

"There is nothing wrong with a little honest emotion, Adam," he said.

His son looked up at him, shaking his head. "You never cry."

Randor reached up and scratched the back of his head. "That's not true, Adam," he said. "I've cried on any number of occasions."

Gazing up at him in clear disbelief, Adam said, "When?" Tears were still trickling down his face, and the boy scrubbed at them irritably.

"Well, when you were born, for one," Randor said. Adam's eyes were still utterly disbelieving. "I cried when your grandfather died, and when my grandfather died." Shrugging somewhat sheepishly, he said, "I cried on the first night you stayed away from home."

"You did?" Adam asked, incredulously.

"It's a big step for a parent," Randor said. "Your baby is doing something independent, on his own, and you're afraid it will scare him, or that he'll have problems and you won't be there to solve them."

"Father, I was eleven when I went out with the guard on that training exercise with all the other kids," Adam said.

Randor flushed. "That's not when I was talking about."

His son looked frankly puzzled. "Then when?"

He shrugged again. "When you were six and you went to stay the night with Teela and Duncan."

Adam goggled at him. "What? Father, that wasn't even out of the palace."

Nodding, he said, "It was on the other side of the palace. It's a large palace, and you made it abundantly clear that I could leave you at the door. I was worried." His son was still staring incredulously at him. "You can ask your mother."

Adam took him at his word, opening the door to into the sitting room. "Mother?"

"Yes Adam?" Randor couldn't see Marlena, but he could hear the discomposed tone of her voice.

"How old was I when I slept away from home the first time?"

"Six, dear," she said, now sounding puzzled.

"You count staying in a different suite of the palace?" Adam asked.

"Of course, Adam. Your home was our suite."

Their son was quiet for a moment, then he said, "Did Dad cry?"

Marlena paused, then she said, "Yes, Adam, he did."

"Thanks." Adam closed the door and looked up at him. "Dad, that's . . . that's kind of sad."

Sighing, Randor shrugged. "Parents do odd things. You'll understand one day when you have children."

Leaning back against the door, Adam raised both eyebrows. "None of that's recent, though."

"No, I suppose not," Randor agreed. He took a deep breath. "I . . . I cried when I found you strapped to that table." He had to pause and put his hand to his eyes now. "You were calling for me, and I . . ."

Adam's eyes widened, and he drew his brows together, looking troubled. "I don't remember that very well," he said. "It was all confusion and loud noises." He reached out and put his arms around his father's waist. "And then you came, like I told her you would, and I knew I was safe."

Randor held Adam close, tears coming to his eyes. "I'm leaking," he said softly.

Adam said a muttered, "Me too," and Randor squeezed him tightly.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of in a little honest emotion, son," he said. "We love each other, and it's all right to let our worry and relief show."

Adam nodded, and Randor managed to get him to come out into the sitting room.

Marlena stood up when she saw them, only sitting down again when they joined her on the sofa. Adam snuggled up between them, seeming content to just sit for the time being, and Randor decided to let well enough alone for now, engaging Marlena in a neutral discussion. After a moment, she joined in, and Adam leaned against him, holding her hand while they talked.

* * *

Evil-Lyn stalked into the throne room with the others, waiting for Skeletor to dress them all down for their failure, but much to her surprise, Skeletor walked up to his throne and turned, sitting down, a thoughtful cast to his posture. No red shone from his eyes. The others exchanged nervous glances, while she stood still, in her usual pose of calm insolence.

"That was very interesting," he said after a long, pensive pause. "Very interesting, indeed. Trap Jaw, what have we learned from this testing of Grayskull's defenses?"

The moron stroked his metal jaw. "Um . . ." he said intelligently, glancing aside at Beastman as if for help with the answer. "I . . ."

Skeletor turned. "Tri-Klops?"

"Well, He-Man didn't come," he said slowly, looking very nervous.

"No, he didn't," Skeletor said. "And I wonder why not."

"Maybe he doesn't like the prince," Trap Jaw said, snickering.

Skeletor paused, apparently giving that utterly ludicrous notion some thought. "That is an interesting suggestion. They are never seen together."

"No, that's true," Tri-Klops said. "And he very nearly failed to show up when you took Prince Adam captive that one time."

"No, he didn't show until Prince Adam was already out of the dungeon," Trap Jaw said. "He waited until the other masters were in danger before he did anything."

"True," Skeletor said, drawing the vowel sound out. Evil-Lyn listened quietly. "I have seen He-Man defending the masters, defending Zodak, defending the king and queen, but has anyone ever, even once, seen him defending Prince Adam?"

Evil-Lyn shook her head but did not speak. This line of reasoning was playing out intriguingly, though she didn't think it led where the others seemed to think it did.

"I've never even seen them together," Tri-Klops said. "Not even on my doomseekers."

Skeletor stroked his jawbone thoughtfully. "So, what possible reason could our muscle-bound do-gooder have for avoiding the crown prince of the kingdom he's sworn to defend?"

"Maybe he just doesn't like him?" Trap Jaw suggested again.

Skeletor shook his head. "No, a man of his type would never disregard someone for so trivial a reason. There must be some other cause."

"Perhaps it's his cowardly nature," Tri-Klops said.

"Possible, but once again, not enough to explain why he doesn't aid him in times of crisis."

_Are they somehow linked?_ Evil-Lyn wondered silently. _Skeletor's right for once. There must be some logical reason for He-Man's failure to come to Prince Adam's rescue._

"Perhaps," Skeletor said musingly, "it isn't that they dislike each other, but rather that they are too close and don't want to risk revealing that relationship to the world at large."

Evil-Lyn raised her eyebrows. "Are you suggesting that they're lovers?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, I am," he said. "It would bring a lot of facts together. His extreme reaction to Daviona's attack." Evil-Lyn rolled her eyes at this, but Skeletor chuckled. "You have a woman's reaction to sex, Evil-Lyn, quite to be expected, I assure you. But I can't imagine that most young men would have so negative a reaction to being sexually assaulted by a beautiful woman."

_Try it sometime,_ Evil-Lyn thought dryly, but she didn't speak.

When she didn't rise to his bait, Skeletor shrugged and went on. "If they were lovers . . . they couldn't let Randor know. It would be dreadful for the kingdom to have a prince whose interests didn't lie in the direction of producing heirs."

"And it would explain why my dogs came up with Adam's wristguard when they tried to scent out He-Man," Beastman said triumphantly. "He-Man's scent was on it!"

"So you're saying that He-Man wouldn't show up to rescue his own lover?" Evil-Lyn said dubiously. "That he'd rather let him die than have their secret come out?"

Skeletor turned his eyes on her once more. "Once again, Evil-Lyn, you are proving that you are a woman." He seemed to allow his gaze to shift up and down her form. "Not that anyone could be in any doubt."

"And if I were a man?" she asked, challengingly.

"You wouldn't ask that question," Tri-Klops said. "It's – it's not a comfortable topic for men."

Skeletor threw back his head and laughed. "Some of us aren't so insecure as that," he said, and Tri-Klops flushed an angry beet-red. "But in essence, that is what I meant."

"I see," she said, drawling. "Well, not being a man, I wouldn't understand that."

"How can we use that to our advantage?" Skeletor wondered aloud. "And still maintain control of and access to the power within Prince Adam?"

"Well, what do the spells you plan to use on the prince entail?" Evil-Lyn asked. "Do they require that Adam be in good health? In possession of all his limbs?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Skeletor said. "But I think I see where you are going, and torture needn't maim nor disfigure. And while it is one thing to accept his death as unavoidable, it is quite another to imagine him being tortured in the long term." He nodded. "And there is always the secret, which must not be revealed." He chuckled. "I think this will work out quite well indeed. I could have both He-Man and Randor dancing attendance on me."

_Not likely. It's more likely by far that they'd kill Adam themselves to take him out of the equation._ Evil-Lyn didn't voice this observation, however.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Duncan, satisfied that the guard lieutenant had things well in hand, turned back to the drawbridge and crossed over. It raised behind him, and the Sorceress appeared out of the murky depths. "Greetings, Man-at-Arms," she said softly. "Prince Adam and his parents are enjoying some quiet time, and I do not think King Randor intends to tell him of Skeletor's plans until you arrive."

"And you wish to delay that?" Duncan asked.

"I think we might profit from some discussion," she said very gravely. He nodded assent, and she led him off into her throne room. "There is something I must tell you regarding Adam that I cannot share fully with his parents."

Feeling a distinct sense of foreboding, he said, "Yes?"

"Do you recall the reason Daviona gave for why she wanted to keep Adam?" she asked.

He pursed his lips. "Yes, and it has perplexed me ever since. Why would Adam be a power source? He has no magical abilities."

"No, not precisely," she said. He raised an eyebrow inquiringly, and she continued, her expression quite somber. "The wielder of the Power Sword must be able to be a conduit for enormous power, else the tremendous energies that surge through him as he transforms would destroy him."

She paused, and Duncan shook his head. "I still don't understand."

"A person capable of being such a conduit is quite often called a 'well.' Such persons attract magical energy into themselves and store it. They have no capability to use this power on their own and may, in fact, spend their entire lives without ever knowing that they have this capacity."

"I see." He _was_ beginning to see, and he didn't like the implications.

"Sometimes they are found by a wizard or a sorcerer who uses them, with or without consent, as a reservoir of power which can be tapped at will without draining their own energies."

"And Adam is a well?" Duncan asked. She nodded, and he felt his stomach contract with anxiety. "Which makes him very attractive to wizards and the like?"

She was silent for a moment. "Wells are extremely rare," she said finally. "And Adam is unusual even within that select group." _Wonderful_, Duncan thought. "He has enormous capacity – he must, in order to channel the raw power of the Elders as he does."

Duncan blinked. "The Elders?" he repeated, feeling very stupid.

"And Adam is unusual in another way. Ordinarily, wells draw in power from the world around them. Building the reservoir back up to capacity is a slow process, taking weeks to months."

"And Adam?"

"Draws directly on the power of Grayskull. If he were drained repeatedly, or drained too low, it might take three or four days to restore his full level of energy."

Duncan was silent after that, taking in the full enormity of this situation. "Skeletor can't know that," he said. "He can't – even if Evil-Lyn has told him about Daviona wanting Adam for that reason, he can't know more than that, can he?"

"No, but Evil-Lyn has the requisite skills to work it out for herself, and we can't know if she'd pass it along to him."

"Work it out for herself?"

"She knows that Daviona drained him repeatedly while she had hold of him, and she knows that she drained him after he was returned to us." He nodded impatiently. "And she has the ability to see the currents of magical energy that cross the world."

"And?"

"When Daviona drained Adam while he was in the infirmary at the palace, the magical energy was visible to my othersight, and it left a trail, for since she did not have a shielded link, she got only a tiny fraction of the power that she drew out of him. The rest of it diffused into the environment around him in a sort of 'v' shape that would be instantly recognizable to anyone who knows about such things."

Duncan's eyes narrowed. "As Evil-Lyn does."

"Yes." The Sorceress paused again, and Duncan wanted to chivvy her onward, for it was clear that she had more to say. He resisted the impulse. "Once she had the whole of Raon's story, I am certain that she looked to see if she could see any evidence of it. If Adam had been an ordinary well, it would have been so diffused by that point that it would have been impossible to be sure."

"What are you saying?"

"The trail is still visible now if you know where to look," she said flatly, causing Duncan's eyes to widen in alarm. "Two days after the event it would have been plain as day, and Evil-Lyn is certainly knowledgeable enough to draw the conclusion that there was an incredible amount of power drained that day. Yet she knows that he'd been drained repeatedly in the previous days, and he was still alive." Duncan swallowed convulsively, feeling as if his heart had leapt into his throat. "So she knows, or will know when she puts it all together, that Adam is a well of both astonishing capacity and regeneration."

Duncan sank down to sit on the steps. "Why haven't you ever mentioned this before?"

"It was unlikely ever to be noticed, truthfully," the Sorceress said. "No one would have any reason to suspect Adam of having magical power, and when he's He-Man –"

"She's too busy fighting to pay attention to what energy he might contain."

"One certainly hopes so," she said. After a moment's pause, she sighed. "So, what do we tell his parents?"

Duncan blinked. The Sorceress was asking him for advice?

* * *

Teela changed course and headed for the palace. She and her team had headed toward Grayskull when the summons came, but before they could reach it, the battle was over and their orders were now to return home. She wanted to go on to Grayskull; she had a feeling her father would be going inside to see the king and queen . . . and Adam.

He was much in her mind of late. How was he going to recover from the torture he'd undergone? He was clearly uncomfortable with her, and he'd known her since they were babies. They'd been bathed together more than once when they'd gotten muddy. If there was anyone in the world he should feel comfortable with, it was her.

_Even with the way you keep jabbing at him?_ came a niggling thought from her conscience. Teela landed her sky sled and dismissed her team. She stopped by the communcations center and filed her reports, then walked over to the console. "Palace to Man-at-Arms?"

There was silence, then Mekanek's voice. "He's gone inside, Teela. Not sure when he's coming out again."

Teela gulped. "Is Adam all right, Mek?" she asked. "Did you see him?"

"Sort of. After the battle was over, he waved from the window."

She bit her lip. "Thanks, Mekanek."

"He's fine, Teela. Don't worry."

"Was anyone hurt?"

"There were thirty-seven serious casualties among the soldiers, and Manny's leg got sliced up by Beastman," Mekanek said. "No deaths, thank the Elders."

"Thank the Elders," she repeated woodenly. "I'm sure you have things you need to be doing," she said.

"See you in the morning," he said, then broke the connection. Teela nodded to Aeris, who was still on duty on the console, and went out. She bit her lip, a thought occurring to her that she was afraid she dared not share with anyone. About a half hour later, she sat on her bed, practicing the meditation techniques her father had taught her.

She had the Sight. Her father had said that she might be able to see the present. Maybe, if she thought about it and concentrated, she might be able to find a clue to help them in their search. They had to find Daviona. Adam would never be comfortable if he knew she was still out there, still stalking him, still torturing other young men. Taking deep breaths, she found her focus and became still. Her thoughts moved more slowly now, and with more surety, and it occurred to her that the Sorceress must be making this kind of search already, and had clearly had limited success.

Trying something someone else had already tried was pointless. But Daviona was smart, or she wouldn't have gotten away with this insane harem of hers for so many years. Where would she go if she had to flee?

Adam's face intruded in her mind, and she tried to banish him without success. He had become so strange these past months, distant and hard to talk to. Part of why she'd been jeering at him so much was to try and shake him loose, get him to yell at her, but it hadn't worked. He'd just gotten even more distant, till she wasn't sure he'd ever talk to her again.

_But we were talking, out there in the woods. We were talking like we used to, until Beastman and Trap Jaw showed up, anyway._ Her traquility broke under the surge of anger that followed this thought, and she opened her eyes. To her surprise, they were wet with angry tears.

She'd cried so often in the last weeks that she half-wondered if there was something wrong with her tear ducts. But that was silly, and she knew it. She was upset about Adam. First he'd been kidnapped while she was with him, then he'd been missing for four days. She'd been terribly afraid he was dead, but she hadn't wanted to share her anxiety with anyone for fear of making it too real. Finally, they found him, but he'd been tortured and drugged, and nobody could see him. And now he was at Grayskull, and he was afraid to be in the same room with her.

Teela had wanted to kill people before, in the heat of battle . . . when they'd hurt someone she cared about . . . but she'd never felt this passionate determination that someone else had to die. Daviona had really made a big mistake picking on Adam. There wasn't one of the masters who wouldn't cheerfully lop her head off.

She'd known most of them her whole life, too, and she'd never seen any of them this abidingly angry before either. She flopped backward onto her bed, wishing she could go see Adam. Wishing he could come home. Wishing it was a year ago, before the stupid wall came down and screwed up everyone's lives.

* * *

Duncan sat in a chair opposite Randor and Marlena. Adam was leaning against his father, looking at him with wide eyes. He did _not_ want to have this conversation, but he also didn't want the Sorceress being involved in it. There were simply too many ways that could go wrong between her and Randor.

Adam tilted his head up. "What is it, Man-at-Arms?" he asked. "What don't you want to tell us?"

Pursing his lips resignedly – the boy had always been perceptive – Duncan sighed. Randor squeezed his son's shoulders. "Adam, Skeletor came here this time looking for you."

Duncan could see every muscle in the boy's body tense. He blinked twice, then said, "Me?" His voice wasn't frightened or angry or anything very specific. He sounded almost numb.

"I'm afraid so. I don't know why, but . . ." Randor trailed off as Duncan cleared his throat.

"I think I do," he said. "Or rather, that the Sorceress does." Adam's eyes widened slightly, and Duncan bit his lip, leaning forward. "Evidently, you are unusual in that you are what wizards call a 'well.'"

"A what?" Randor asked, but Marlena's eyes grew round, making Duncan wonder what she knew.

"A 'well,'" Duncan repeated. "What it means is that power is drawn into you, that you store it like a well stores water."

Adam's brows knit together in a puzzled expression. "That's . . . odd," he said.

Duncan nodded. "It's why Daviona wants you, and it's proabably why Skeletor wants you. They want access to the huge power you attract by your very nature."

"Is there some way to stop it? To make it go away?" Adam asked, looking desperate. His whole frame had seemed to shrink slightly when Duncan had mentioned Daviona.

"I'm afraid not," Duncan said with all the sympathy he could muster. "It's what you are, like being blond or blue-eyed."

"Why is she only telling us now?" Marlena asked, her voice very carefully controlled. Adam was sufficiently distressed that he didn't seem to notice her tone, but Randor gave her a wary look.

Duncan knew he had to tread carefully here. "I gather she didn't realize it until recently," he said. "Wells are evidently exceedingly rare, and they since they have no magical abilities of their own, they often go unrecognized for years, maybe even their whole lives."

"So what do we do?" Randor asked. "If Skeletor knows, he's not going to stop coming after him." Adam glanced up at his father, looking more than a little apprehensive.

"The Sorceress is going to give it some thought. Apparently she can't simply shield him, because the energy flows out and in all the time, and it would be harmful to him to cut off the flow."

Adam folded his arms across his chest and tucked his legs up, making himself very small. All three of the adults watched this with some alarm, and Randor put his arms around his son. "We aren't going to let anyone get hold of you, Adam," he said gently. "You're safe."

The prince shook his head. "You can't protect me," he said miserably. "You can't kill every wizard who gets a look at me and decides that I'm a tasty treat."

Randor squeezed, and Duncan could tell that Adam was comforted despite his fear. "I can and will protect you. We'll have help from the masters, the Sorceress, Orko. You'll be fine, Adam."

The prince looked up into Duncan's eyes and his next words chilled his mentor to the bone. "I know how Daviona got the power out of me, but how would Skeletor do it?"

Silence reigned for a moment while Duncan wracked his brain. He didn't know the answer, and it was clear that his failure to respond was confirming Adam's worst fears.

"_It's not at all likely that he'd use the same method,"_ the Sorceress said to Duncan. _"There are a number of other ways. Sex is merely the simplest."_

Duncan shifted from his chair to his knees and took Adam's hand, squeezing it until the boy looked at him. "There are other ways, Adam. Sex isn't the only means available." The prince's shoulders relaxed just slightly. "Not that it matters," Duncan said, forcing a grin. "As your father said, he's not going to lay hands on you again."

Adam squeezed his hand back, but it was clear to Duncan that the boy's sense of security had been shattered. Rebuilding it could take a very long time, indeed.

* * *

Adam listened to Man-at-Arms and his father, and he wanted to believe them. But if what Duncan was saying was true, then every sorcerer who saw Adam was going to come running, salivating.

"_Not every sorcerer,"_ said a familiar, soothing voice in his mind.

"_All right then,"_ Adam replied, _"every evil sorcerer. That just makes it worse."_ He paused, considering. _"Is this to do with my being He-Man?"_ he asked, careful not to speak aloud.

"_Yes, Adam, it is. It's what enables you to channel the immense power that transforms you."_

Adam sighed. He felt his father's arm tighten around him. _"So is there anything else that I should know that Man-at-Arms can't tell my parents?"_

She was quiet for a moment, but he could still feel her presence, as though she was weighing her answer carefully. _"Wells are extraordinarily rare, and you are unusually powerful, due to your need to channel huge amounts of energy."_

"_So, do I light up the night sky?"_ he asked, trying to make light of an alarming situation.

Predictably, the Sorceress didn't recognize the attempt at humor. _"Very nearly,"_ she said, and he gulped.

"Adam?" his father said. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, really," he replied, but his father did not seem convinced.

"_We will talk more later, Prince Adam,"_ the Sorceress said, and before he could ask her anything else, she was gone.

Feeling more than slightly frustrated, Adam leaned against his father, forcing his muscles to relax.

"I can't very well ask you what's wrong," Randor said, ironically, and Adam chuckled a bit. "What can I do to help?"

Adam pulled away just far enough so he could see his father's face. "Just you being here with me is great," he said. The king's face crumpled, and Adam flushed with embarrassment, leaning back against his father's side. Duncan was watching them with an odd expression on his face, almost like he was remembering something.

His mother stood up and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she said, then she went into the bedroom.

"You used to go to sleep like that, when you were little," Duncan said, and Adam knit his brows. "I remember many an evening when I'd stop by to ask a question or just to discuss the day, I'd find you," nodding at Randor, "ensconced on the sofa in your sitting room with Adam tucked up under your arm while you read some document of state."

"I remember that, too," Adam's father said, stroking Adam's hair gently. "Your mother would come in and try to put you to bed, but I'd tell her that you were so comfortable that it would be a shame to wake you until we had to."

"Really?" Adam asked. "I remember sitting like that, but I didn't know it happened that regularly." Tilting his head so he could see his father's face, he smiled. "I always liked sitting with you when you were working. It made me feel like I was a part of what you were doing, even though most of the time I didn't have any idea what it was."

His father chuckled. "When you were older, and had schoolwork to do, you'd sit so seriously beside me, working away."

"You know, I got yelled at for that once," Duncan said and Adam sat up a little, startled. "Oh yes, your mother came and demanded to know why I was setting you so much work."

Adam's father chuckled again and tousled Adam's hair. Utterly perplexed Adam said, "Why? You didn't set me all that much work, did you?"

"No," Duncan said, fighting a losing battle with a grin. He was trying to look stern but it wasn't working. "I set you and Teela reasonable amounts of work, nothing too trying. But your mother seemed to think I was burdening you with reams of work." Now his father was laughing, and Adam still had no idea why. "Apparently, when it was time for you to go to bed, you told her that you had too much work to do."

"I don't remember that," Adam said, astonished. "I told her that?"

"And she came to me, raging with fury, that I was making you work too hard."

"And that was the end of that," Adam's father said. "You were very upset, but she had Duncan giving her the assignments as well, so she knew just how much you had to do. And," his father paused for emphasis, "she started making _me _go to bed early, too, to set an example."

"No doubt you simply shifted operations into your bedroom," Duncan said.

"Until it seemed that Adam wouldn't notice, then I started working in the sitting room again."

"I miss the old days, when you would take whole days off and we'd go somewhere and play," Adam said, lost in nostalgia. "Now you never seem to have time for me, unless it's work or I've done something wrong."

"Adam!" his father exclaimed, and he turned to look up at him in surprise. "I . . . I . . . you're right. I've been a terrible father."

"I didn't say that!" Adam said. "You're a great father. I just wish you had more time, but you're king. You can't just stop being king. That's more important than –"

"Than being your father?" his father asked. "That doesn't even make sense. How can you grow up to be a good man, much less a good king, if your father neglects you?"

"You don't neglect me," Adam protested. "You have a job and you do it. You were always there for me when I was little, and isn't that when it counts?"

"I –" his father started, but Adam had had enough.

He shook his head. "Father, stop, please."

Randor nodded, and gave him a rueful smile. "Of course," he said.

"Why don't we play cards?" Adam suggested, including Duncan in his glance. He was very pleased when his mentor allowed as he had time for a few hands.

* * *

Marlena walked out into the middle of the bed chamber and, pitching her voice low, she said, "Sorceress, I know you listen more than you let on. Please speak to me." There was no response, and Marlena bit her lip, growing irritated. "I have questions, I have a right to know the answers."

There was a pregnant pause, and Marlena knew that she was being heard. She no longer felt alone in the room. _"Yes, Queen Marlena?" _the Sorceress said, and there was a hint of resignation in her mental voice.

"Why didn't you tell us that Adam was a well?" she asked.

"_As Man-at-Arms told you, I didn't realize –"_

"Balderdash!" Her voice came out louder than she had intended, and she glanced toward the door. No one seemed to have noticed, fortunately. Speaking more quietly, she went on. "I do not for one moment believe that, with as much time as you've spent in his presence, you didn't know Adam was a well. I do believe that Duncan didn't know before today, he looked too stunned to be faking it." Marlena shook her head. "Or even if you didn't know before all this started, I am dead certain you had a good look at him afterwards, to see what all the fuss was about."

"_Your point?"_

"Why didn't you tell us immediately?" Marlena demanded. "You knew what Daviona wanted him for. As soon as you knew, you should have said something."

"_There is nothing you can do about it,"_ the Sorceress said. _"It isn't something you can protect him from."_

"Well, I can tell you, I don't like finding out that my enemies know more about my son than I do." Marlena felt perilously close to tears, but she struggled to stave them off.

"_Now that Skeletor does know, it makes it doubly important that I find some way to protect him."_

"Duncan said you can't shield him," Marlena said. "Is that true?"

"_A simple shield would not work. In fact it could be quite damaging. There is one possibility, but I must look into the necessary requirements to see if they can be met."_

"What is this possibility?"

"_I would prefer to keep that to myself until I'm sure it will work."_ Marlena pursed her lips irritably. _"I am not concealing anything from you concerning Adam's needs at this point."_ She paused again. _"I am sorry that I did not inform you that Adam is a well as soon as I knew. I can understand your desire to know everything that pertains to your child."_ There was a depth of sadness in her mental voice that made Marlena wonder if she had lost a child at some time in the past.

If she had, it was not the queen's business, and it would not be right to pry. She didn't yet know the Sorceress well enough for that. "Thank you," she said. "It's just that Adam's in such a state, so easily distressed. I think it would have been easier on him if he'd known in advance. This way, so many fearful new things are coming at him at once, it's a little hard to take."

"_I do see your point, your highness,"_ the Sorceress said. _"I had not considered it from that angle. Now, I must go. There are things I must see to."_

"Of course. Thank you for talking to me."

When the sense of the other woman's presence was gone, Marlena walked across to the window. The landscape was lit only by the dim light of the rising moons. She couldn't help being a bit suspicious. If Adam was such a powerful well, had the Sorceress been planning on using him herself? Was that why she had initially kept silent?

Asking either Duncan or Adam's opinion would be pointless, she feared. They both spoke of her with the most profound respect. Randor would likely not believe it, he had a great deal of trust in people. Teela owed her life to the woman. Marlena shook her head. For now she would just keep an eye on things and see how they played out.

* * *

Chapter 28


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Duncan walked into his suite and was surprised to see two dinners waiting on the table under the heat shield. _Where's Teela?_ he wondered. He peeked into her bedroom and saw that she was lying on her back on her bed. Her eyes appeared to be open, so he tapped lightly on the door.

She sat up sharply, eyes focusing on him as her hand reached for her staff. When she saw him, her shoulders relaxed, and she let her arm drop to her lap. "Don't scare me like that!" she exclaimed.

"I wasn't sneaking," he said, smiling at her. "You must have been very deep in thought."

His daughter sighed and swung her feet off the bed. "I was just thinking about Adam. Trying to think of new ways to find the . . . woman . . . who did that to him."

"Any thoughts?"

"I don't know. I wondered if my Sight might come in useful, but I don't know if it's something you can _do_. It seems, so far, to be something that just happens."

He nodded, walking over and sitting beside her. "Largely it is. Even the Sorceress, who is an Oracle, can't usually summon visions. She has to wait until they come."

Teela sighed. "Is Adam ever going to be himself again?" she asked disconsolately.

He put his arm around her. "Himself?" he said slowly. "If you're asking if he's going to go back to being the same boy he was before all this happened, then no, that's highly unlikely. Even little life experiences change us, and this wasn't little."

She leaned against his side. "But he's not always going to be this . . . this fragile, is he? I hate to think of him that way."

"No, he'll get past this, Teela. It's just going to take time."

Nodding, she took a deep breath and stood up. "We should eat dinner, I guess," she said. He smiled and they went out into their sitting room. As he pulled their trays out from under the warming covers, Teela went around turning on the lights. "So, what did Skeletor do, anyway? Was it just another attempt to get into Grayskull?"

Duncan froze. He hadn't asked anyone if it would be permissible to tell the searchers that Skeletor was now after Adam, or that he was a well. "Damn," he muttered.

"What?" Teela asked.

"I forgot to ask the king something," he said. "So what I'm about to tell you needs to stay between us until I can get an opportunity to speak to him." She nodded, clearly made uneasy by this preamble.

"What happened, Father?" she asked.

"Skeletor wasn't after Grayskull today."

"Then why did he attack the castle?" Her tone was pragmatic and logical. Her eyes, though, her eyes were pools of worry.

"He was after Adam." Before she could speak the angry words he could see gathering in her face. "You see, it seems that Adam is what sorcerers call a 'well.'" He explained the concept to her, and she sat, staring at the cooling food in front of her, not seeing it.

"So every sorcerer out there is going to be after him now?" she asked.

"I think not," he replied. "They haven't noticed yet, and neither Skeletor nor Evil-Lyn is likely to be eager to spread the news of their find. Nor Daviona for that matter."

"I suppose that makes sense." Her brows knit together. "And I guess it also means that sorcerers who do capture him aren't likely to kill him straight off."

Duncan's jaw dropped. He hadn't considered it in that light before. "No, I suppose not. But we're not going to say that to him. We're trying to get him to believe that he won't be captured again."

She shrugged. "Well, if he remains convinced otherwise, you could always tell him that. It might reassure him to know that he'd live long enough to be rescued."

Fortunately, their food didn't taste bad cold, since by now all the warmth had gone out of it. They ate in silence until Teela looked up again. "Father, I was thinking about where Daviona would have gone to hide, and it occurred to me that she might have lived in that area before. Maybe this is something you've already considered, but what if there was some documentation? Or a pattern to the orphanages that were hit?"

He nodded. "That's a very good thought, Teela. A very good thought. Orko said that she had to have come from somewhere else, that her base wasn't something one could build just starting out."

"Well, how old is that . . . burrow?" Teela asked logically.

"The energy bubble that powered it was just slightly over two hundred years old, according to Orko."

"So, we get orphanage records, and chronicles, and we see what we can find in that time period."

"Teela, that's a lot of work. Most of that is still going to be on paper records."

She sat back and sighed. "But if it would help . . . do you think it might help?"

"Actually, I do." He was very pleased by this idea. Not only was it a good plan for locating Daviona, not only was it something Randor wanted done in any case, but it might just keep his daughter out of the line of fire. He didn't want anyone with Evil-Lyn's ability to See power to look around at a time when she might notice Teela. She might not be a well, but there were secrets he didn't want known just yet. He leaned across the table towards her. "Teela, would you be willing to work on this search?

"Of course, but . . . wait, wouldn't it pull me off of the physical search?" She shook her head decisively. "I'm needed in the field."

"Teela, you're needed to do this search. Who better? You're discreet, you know everything that's involved, and you're strongly motivated to find what you're looking for."

"True," she said, sounding dubious. "But I'm no scholar."

"So we recruit one to work with you. It will be too big a job for one person alone, but I'd like to keep it as close to home as we can."

Her eyes grew thoughtful. "Father, I rotated the comwatch, but I mostly stayed in the communcations center myself." He nodded. "One of the soldiers, one of the levies from the south, he talked about doing some archive work for his lord. It actually surprised me a little, because he didn't really seem like the type, but he sure sounded like he knew what he was doing."

"Then we have our helper. What's his name?"

"Nalineph." She bit her lip. "Are you sure I'm the one to be doing this?"

"I'm sure."

Sighing, his daughter gave in. "All right." She tilted her head. "Do you think I might be able to visit Adam more often?"

* * *

When Adam woke up the next morning, he was alone in the bed except for Cringer. He sat up sharply, adrenaline pumping through him as he looked around for his father. Only the presence of Cringer kept him from panicking altogether.

When he caught sight of his father, Adam let out an explosive sigh of relief. The king and queen were talking quietly by the window. They must have heard him, because they turned. Cringer stood up and butted against his shoulder, then seated himself cat-fashion beside his master.

"Are you all right, son?" his father said, coming across to the bed. Feeling foolish about his near-panic, he nodded. His mother had come across, too, and he smiled up at her, raising a hand and petting Cringer.

"I'm fine. I just –" He flushed. "I didn't know where you were." He shrugged, looking down. "I got scared." _I am a coward,_ he thought miserably.

"It's all right, Adam," his father said sympathetically. "You're fine."

He nodded, biting his lip. "Have you had breakfast?" he asked them, looking up again.

"I have," his mother said. "I woke up early." She sat down on the bed. "I've got to go back to the palace," she said gently.

Sighing, he said, "Okay." Then he glanced up at his father. "You're staying, right?"

"Of course I am."

Adam smiled at him and gave his mother a hug. "Tell people I'm all right," he said.

"I will." She hugged him back, very tightly.

"I love you, Mother," he said.

"I love you, too, Adam." Giving him one last squeeze she stood up and left the room. A moment later he heard the door to the suite close. He and his father went into the sitting room for breakfast.

* * *

Marlena strode through the halls of Grayskull, tears making tracks down her face despite her best efforts to control them. This departure had been planned with the Sorceress, and Marlena knew that there was a wind raider waiting for her outside. Thus, when the drawbridge failed to open at her approach, the queen was startled.

"It is not what you think it is." The voice echoed not in her mind, but in the hall, and Marlena turned, startled anew by the Sorceress' appearance. She was floating toward her from the direction of the throne room.

"What?" Marlena asked, wiping at the tears on her face.

"It is the drugs." The other woman settled down gently on her feet, gazing compassionately at the queen of Eternia.

"I beg your pardon?" The queen pulled out her handkerchief, because the tears hadn't stopped coming.

"The conditioning agent," the Sorceress said patiently. "Daviona used it to build an unbreakable emotional bond between herself and her . . . slaves, I suppose, for lack of a better word." Marlena nodded. "The first person Adam should have seen after the drug took full effect was Daviona."

Understanding flooded her. "But he saw Randor instead," she said.

"And imprinted on him," the Sorceress replied, nodding. "He will likely have an unusually strong bond with his father for the rest of his life. But that does not mean he will – or does – love you any less. The drug simply augmented the bond Adam feels with his father."

"I see," Marlena said, and swallowed. "That makes sense."

"And that drug is still the strongest in his system, especially now that we have partially purged the others. While that drug is present, he will actively need the person he has imprinted on."

"Does Randor know that?"

"If he has not been told directly, he has sensed it, for he has not left him alone for more than a few minutes."

Marlena nodded, her tears finally ebbing. "Good." She grimaced. "I really have to be going now." The Sorceress gestured and the drawbridge started its slow descent. Marlena turned, then looked back. "Thank you," she said, then left quickly before her emotions could betray her again.

* * *

Teela was nominally in charge, but when Nalineph started talking about methods and the need for a plan, she was more than willing to let him lead the way. As a result, by midday they had chronicles coming in from all over the kingdom, and her partner was checking them off on a list he'd made of what they'd need.

"Shouldn't we start looking through them?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "What are we looking for?" he asked. "Just reading through the chronicles randomly will take forever. We need to have a coherent plan of what it is we're trying to find."

Teela sat back and bit her lip. "Well, what would be signs of Daviona's presence?" She started ticking them off on her fingers. "Young men going missing without explanation, boys being taken from orphanages, um . . ." An idea hit her. "Chemicals!"

"Chemicals?" Nalineph repeated.

"The ingredients for the drugs. Surely there are records."

Nalineph nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe the Merchant's Guild." He bent and wrote out another note and sent it off. "That's a good thought."

Teela was already writing a note to the healers to ask them what the ingredients were. As an afterthought, she asked them if any of the chemicals was likely to have been referred to by a different name then.

"Well, now that we have an idea what we're looking for in the chronicles, I guess we can start our search."

Teela looked at the dusty tomes piled on the table. A servant walked in with three more, and Nalineph checked them off on his list. She reached out and took one off the stack, opened it and started skimming.

* * *

The Sorceress came in just after midday and had Adam sit on the floor in front of her. Nervously, he did. His father sat nearby, watching as she placed her hands on either side of his head, about an inch and a half away from him on both sides. She looked over at his father and said, "He will not be occupied in any other way by the spell, so you might find something to do that will entertain him while I'm working."

Randor shrugged and got up. Adam watched him go into the bedroom with an odd sinking feeling in his belly. _Coward. It's the Sorceress, you know she wouldn't hurt you_. Nevertheless, he couldn't help his reaction. He started breathing faster, and he could feel his heart speeding up.

The Sorceress placed her hands on his shoulders very gently, and Adam started violently, pulling away from her and turning. "Adam," she said softly. "It's all right."

"I know," he said through gritted teeth. "It doesn't help." He took several deep breaths, feeling like an idiot.

His father emerged from the bedroom, a book in hand, and when he saw how Adam looked, he rushed across. "Adam, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just walked out like that."

"It's okay," the prince said, continuing to breathe slowly. He reached out and squeezed his father's hand, taking comfort from the contact. Finally, he managed to get himself to sit down again where the Sorceress had placed him.

Once he was sitting there, they all seemed to come to a tacit agreement that they would ignore Adam's reaction, which suited Adam just fine. His father sat down again and said, "Would my reading aloud disturb you?" he asked.

"Not at all," she said. "Ready, Adam?"

He nodded, that being the only response he felt capable of at the moment. She spoke a few words, and then there was a strange tingling in Adam's temples. He glanced up at his father, who started reading.

It was an odd but not unpleasant sensation, and didn't really distract him from the story of the book. It was several chapters later before the Sorceress finished her spell. The sensation ceased and he looked up. "So, what was that for?" he asked.

"It was an attempt at a shield, Adam. We shall see tomorrow if it worked."

Adam turned around and looked up at her. "A shield?"

"Something that will protect you from Daviona and allow you to leave Grayskull."

He snorted. "Worn out my welcome already, have I?"

"No, Adam," she said, smiling slightly. "I just thought you might want to go outside. See your friends."

Stretching to his feet, he nodded. "That would be nice." He walked over and sat down next to his father, leaning against him. "I miss everybody." He shivered, though, at the thought of being where there were a lot of people.

"Adam, what is it?" his father asked.

He shrugged, trying to pretend it was nothing, but his father wasn't having any of it. "What is it, Adam?" he repeated firmly.

"Dad, I . . ." He glanced at the Sorceress, who was as calm and serene as ever. "I don't want to talk about it."

"And I must be going," the Sorceress said, rising.

Startled, Adam said, "No, don't go. I didn't mean –"

"I have work, Prince Adam," she said, her voice a hair warmer than he was used to hearing from her. She cupped his cheek in her hand. He gulped nervously but didn't pull away. She smiled at him, nodded to his father, then left the room.

"Adam, you did very well," his father said, squeezing his shoulders.

He turned away. "Yeah, I didn't scream like a girl and run away."

"Now Adam," Randor said, "you mustn't be so hard on yourself."

"I just feel like an idiot, being afraid of people I know and trust. How am I going to react when the court girls start flirting with me?" Adam grimaced. "I can just see myself throwing my hands up into the air and running away shrieking the way Lady Reneya did when she saw a mouse in the music room."

His father was silent for a long moment. "I understand your fears, and I'm not going to say they're groundless, but we'll work up to that sort of thing slowly. Do you want to know what I have planned for your return for the palace?"

Adam shifted so he could see his father's face more clearly. "What?"

"I'm going to restrict access to the royal wing. We'll tell people . . ."

"We'll tell people that his constitution is frail after his ordeal," Dorgan said, coming out of his laboratory. "Which won't be far from the truth." He walked over and sat down across from them. "I think that's an excellent idea, by the way, Randor."

"So, I'll be restricted to the royal wing, then," Adam said glumly. "What about the gardens?"

His father bit his lip. "The walled garden that our rooms open onto will be restricted as well."

Adam nodded. It made sense, even if it did sound a bit confining. Maybe they could take trips out into the woods. _Right, with guards to protect the fragile and sought-after prince. That'll be fun._ He sighed.

"We'll start you off with small gatherings of people, first people you know well, like the masters."

He looked up at his father and smiled. At least, he tried to smile. From the look on his father's face, the result was ghastly. "That all sounds great, and very much like what I'm going to need," he said, giving up the attempt at cheer. "But I don't think I want to hear about it after all."

"I'm sorry, son, I know it must sound deadly dull."

Adam shook his head. "No, it doesn't that," he replied. "It sounds . . . pathetic."

"It's not pathetic," his father said firmly.

"No, it's not," Dorgan agreed. "You're doing fine. Amazingly well, actually."

Adam shrugged. _They have to say that,_ he thought miserably.

* * *

Randor wished he knew what he could say to persuade his son that he really wasn't being pathetic at all. He wasn't sure the he himself would have bounced back as quickly as Adam was. Since he didn't know what to say, he squeezed Adam's shoulders and said, "Do you want to help me some more with that property rights project?"

The boy perked up immediately. "Sure."

He smiled fondly at his son. In a way this was kind of like getting to start over with him. This time, he wouldn't make the same mistakes.

* * *

Following up on Teela's inspiration during the night, Duncan set her team to asking questions about old stories regarding mysterious or dangerous women. As he gave the instructions, one of his team raised a hand. "Yes, Felinar?"

"Perhaps they should also look for stories about a charitable woman who takes in orphan boys," the pale-furred Qadian suggested. "All of the tales about her might not be negative."

Duncan nodded. "That's why we have these meetings," he said. "Yes, by all means, any stories that sound like they could be related, whether positive or negative in leaning towards the woman." With that he sent them out.

He started towards the communications center, not happy to be leaving Teela's team without two of its members, but he couldn't leave the palace with both the king and queen gone. As he rounded he corner, he saw Marlena entering the palace.

Walking swiftly to her side, he said, "Good morning, my queen. I didn't expect you back today."

She gave him a weak smile. "I'm needed here," she said. The tone of her voice and the tilt of her head worried him. She must have seen the expression on his face, because her smile grew stronger. "Don't worry, Duncan, I'm not feeling too sorry for myself. The Sorceress explained things to me. She's an . . . interesting woman."

"She's very knowledgeable," Duncan said.

"I'll have to talk to you about her more later," she replied thoughtfully. "I'd like to know more about her." Duncan nodded helplessly, wondering how he was going to get out of that. "Now, since I am back, I suspect you can go out and do more good searching . . . or are you stationed here?"

"I was . . ." he said slowly. "But Teela is here with one of her team members, searching the archives for possible documentary evidence of where Daviona may be hiding now."

"Thus shorting one of the teams out there?" the queen asked. "Do you think you ought to go?"

"Well, the trouble there is that I'd be shorting my own team, then."

Marlena to a step closer to him, looking up into his eyes. She spoke in a very quiet voice. "I'd feel better with you out there, Duncan. You have more experience with magic than anyone else in our forces aside from Orko, and I'm very much afraid we'll need that experience."

Duncan nodded and, after calling Buzz Off and Ram-Man to let them know that he would be going back out into the field, he returned to The Sun and Moons to check on the progress of the search.

* * *

Daviona settled herself on the carefully padded platform she used for major workings, her legs crossed and her eyes focused on a spot painted in gold on the opposite wall. Slowly, she defocused and went into trance. She had gathered up a fairly large amount of power. The death of the writer, though regrettable in light of his charms, had proven to be an excellent source of energy, and her two young men were doing very well for her.

She might just have enough to pierce the barrier they had placed around Prince Adam. A surprise attack could possibly make it through, and then she could see for herself where he was and what she would need to do to recover him.

And perhaps . . . if she were very lucky . . . she'd be able to draw on him again.

* * *

The day had been quiet, with no excitement, no news to either alarm or reassure them. Randor and Adam had gone to bed at a reasonable hour. Not too long after falling asleep, Randor had been awakened by a cry from his son, who was having another nightmare. He calmed Adam, got him back to sleeping quietly again without waking him, then sat leaning against the headboard, watching the moons move across the night sky.

Life would never be normal again after this. Marlena was upset by the fact that Adam needed him more, he could see that. Adam was . . . Randor sighed. His son had been traumatized so badly, and yet he was trying so hard to be himself. He kept catching him staring off into the distance, clearly thinking dark thoughts, but he didn't want to pressure the boy into talking to him.

Daviona had entered his life again, and changed everything and everyone around him. All because he had refused to bed her twenty years ago. How had Skeletor gotten wind of her antagonism? Why had he invited her, among all the others, to his little party?

And what was that nonsense about a prophecy? _My son is the fulfillment of a prophecy?_ Randor shook his head in bafflement. It must have been some kind of mistake, some crazy notion. _Adam is only a boy, not some kind of hero out of legend._

Suddenly, Adam spasmed wildly, nearly throwing him off the bed. Giving a cry of alarm, his son sat up sharply, gripping his head, and the green shields of Grayskull came to life at the same moment. He put his arms around Adam, holding him close, uncertain what could be happening.

"Sorceress!!" Randor called loudly. "Help us!"

Adam jumped at the sound of his voice and looked up. Randor was suprised and pleased to see sense in his eyes. "What's going on?" he asked, leaning into his father's embrace. "I felt something really strange in my head . . . or by my head . . . something. It was bizarre, and it woke me."

"You're all right, Adam," Randor said, though he wasn't entirely certain of that. "I don't know what's happening, but as soon as the Sorceress can tell us, I'm sure she will."

* * *

Daviona sliced through the barrier only to find herself met by a second around the boy's mind and immense power. This second barrier bounced her back, but a shield snapped up, trapping her magical probe so that she couldn't draw herself away.

She let out a cry of fury and tried to break free, for she could feel another intelligence following her back to her lair. She had used an enormous amount of energy creating that probe, and if she could not draw it back into herself, that power would be lost. But if she allowed the magus – for this one had a great deal of power by the feel – to track her, she would be in serious danger.

After dithering for long, dangerous moments, Daviona broke the connection between herself and that power, but the other had come perilously close to reaching her.

She had become aware, when she went out to seek supplies that she had forgotten, that there were searchers in this vicinity. No doubt that magus had tracked the first attempt that had encountered the shield. Shaking her head, she rose to her feet. She would have to seek out new lodgings. Some new place . . . but where?

* * *

Duncan started bolt upright at the mental shake. _"Duncan!"_ the Sorceress exclaimed. _"I have a closer fix on Daviona. If you get out there you might catch her. She's quite liable to flee!"_ With this communication came an image of a greatly reduced area that was in the northwestern quarter of the area they'd been searching, away from all the settlements.

He leapt out of bed and grabbed his communicator, rousting out all the others, then hurried into his clothes and armor.

If it could be managed, they would capture the bitch.

* * *

Within a very few moments, something arced at the shields. Randor stared at the spot where it looked almost as if a small hole was closing. Adam was trembling in his arms, and the king wanted answers. After that first question, however, he had remained silent. The Sorceress was undoubtedly a bit busy at the moment.

They sat for long minutes, waiting, and then the door opened, causing both of them to jump. Dorgan walked in. "Is Adam all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Adam said, his voice quavering only a little. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure yet, son," Randor said. "I am certain, however, that the Sorceress will tell us as soon as she's able."

"_The attack is over, and I am about to take the shield down,"_ said her voice in all of their minds. _"I will be with you in a few moments."_

The green energy dissipated, and Adam leaned in closer. "I know she said the attack's over," he said, "but I suddenly feel really naked."

"I can understand that," Randor said, squeezing.

Dorgan walked over and leaned down. "Adam, do you need anything?"

The boy shook his head. "I'm okay, but I was sleeping . . ." He shuddered. "It was Daviona, wasn't it? It almost has to have been."

"I don't know," Randor said.

"It was." The deep, feminine voice came from the doorway. The Sorceress stood there, her face as placid as ever, but her eyes held a look of . . . was it triumph? "She reached the shield on you, didn't she, Adam?" she asked, walking across to stand before them.

"I don't know, I guess so," Adam said. "It woke me up, whatever it was."

"Just a moment." She closed her eyes and held a hand out toward Adam's forehead. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes again. "I can see the residue from the attack on the shields." Adam shook his head and rubbed at it, almost as if trying to rid himself of the taint. "Do not worry, Prince Adam, I have removed it," the woman said, a smile in her tone.

Adam looked up at her sheepishly. "Thanks," he said. She smiled and moved away, walking toward the window.

"So did we learn anything from this attack?" Randor asked, knowing that they'd learned a great deal from the previous one.

She turned back, the look of triumph taking over her whole face. "I narrowed her location down to a few square miles. No more than five or six."

"Really?" Adam asked.

"Unfortunately, she knows it," the Sorceress continued. "She will try to move herself before she's found, but I have already contacted Duncan, so the masters should be on site very soon."

"That's wonderful," Randor said. "If she panics, she'll run right into them."

The Sorceress nodded. "That is my hope."

Adam hunched lower in his arms. "What is it, son?"

"If she panics, she might decide to drain her two prisoners dry to get all the energy she can," he said so softly that he almost couldn't make out the words.

Randor could see that neither of the others could hear him at all, and he repeated Adam's concern. The Sorceress walked over and knelt by the bed, looking into Adam's eyes. "We will just have to hope that her greed is more long-sighted than that."

Adam nodded. Randor looked out the window, thinking that no one was going to get much sleep tonight.

* * *

Daviona had made a quick trip via magical gate to the cavern she'd set up as a hideout more than three hundred years ago. The last time she'd been there was at least a hundred and fifty years past, and she hadn't known for certain what she'd find.

It was still sealed away from the outside world by a combination of magic and geology, and the limited energy bubbles she'd created to support it were still active. In fact, as she'd made them able to absorb power from the world around them, they'd even grown a trifle, which was fortunate.

Getting away was going to take a profligate use of energy, but she was damned if she was going to let those fools stop her.

Moving swiftly, she'd made some basic preparations for her occupancy. Now she had to fetch her boys there. Before leaving she had thrown clothes into each of the chambers where she was storing them, knowing full well that they'd dress as quickly as they could.

Gathering up what equipment was easily portable, she bundled it into packs. She'd taken to storing her drugs in a small case, ready to be moved if necessary, when she'd found out that there were people tracking her. It was the work of moments to shove that into one of the packs. She gazed for a long moment at the yellow potion, but it would not travel. She'd have to leave it behind. But she had the ingredients to start a new batch when she had leisure.

After losing as much power as she had to her attempt to reach Adam, the controlling spells she was going to have to use on her boys would leave her nearly drained by the time they were settled, but there was no help for it.

She went to their rooms and had their beds restrain them. Then she went into each room and cast the spell to keep their minds in her direct control for the next several hours.

When she had Adam's power, when she could crush people at whim, she was going to make Randor pay for the troubles she was suffering.

* * *

Duncan got everyone together in the courtyard and started to snap out orders, but just as he began, Teela came running in, fastening her belt around her waist, her hair still mussed from sleep.

"Father! I know where she is!" He stared blankly at her, and the other masters and the guardsmen turned in shock. "I Saw it! I Saw her!"

He took in three deep breaths and let them out slowly. "Can you take us there?" he asked.

"Follow me," she replied and left the courtyard, heading for the hangar. Duncan nodded once and followed after her.

Mekanek fell in beside him. "Um . . . Man-at-Arms?"

"What?" Duncan asked brusquely, not particularly wanting to discuss this now.

"What's going on?"

"Not now, Mekanek," Duncan growled.

"It's a little startling," Mekanek said urgently. "Surely you can see that."

Duncan stopped in his tracks and turned to glare at his old friend. "Teela has the Sight, Mekanek, but it's only just started showing up. All right?"

Mekanek nodded. "I just wanted to know why –" He broke off as Duncan turned away and started walking toward the hangar again. Fortunately for his own health, Mek didn't say anything else.

The group of them took off with Teela on point. Mekanek shadowed her closely, which Duncan was pleased to see. He didn't want her to get too far ahead of the others, and that was all too likely given her headstrong tendencies and her urgency.

The flight was a relatively long one, and Duncan realized that he probably should have quartered at least some of them in Tronak so that they would be closer to the action.

Teela landed them in a spot that was very close to the center of the area the Sorceress had shown him. She leapt off her sky sled and lit the end of her staff, dashing about, trying to find something. Duncan ran up to her and caught her arm. "What are we looking for?"

She turned to him. "I'm not sure," she said. "I just know that she's down there, under the ground somewhere!"

Duncan nodded. "All right, everyone!" he said turning to the others. "Spread out and look for anything that could conceal an entrance." They followed his orders and he stepped back for a moment, scanning the area with some night vision goggles he'd built into his helmet.

After awhile, he noticed that Felinar had gestured Buzz Off over to his postion. He started toward them, and as he grew closer he saw the Andrenid nodding. Buzz Off turned, seeking him. "I think we've found something, Man-at-Arms!" he called quietly, and Duncan broke into a run.

He started to raise his comlink to his lips, annoyed with himself for not bringing Orko, when the jester floated up to his elbow, startling him. "Can I help?" he asked.

"Look here," Felinar said, pointing to a spot on the ground. "I caught her scent, and then I saw this. Does it not look like hinges?"

Duncan squatted and examined the uneven rockface where Felinar was indicating. Along the lowest point of a slope, there did indeed, seem to be hinges. They were cleverly concealed, but clear if one looked closely. The arrogant cunning of the woman, hiding her door in plain sight. No one would see them unless they knew just where to look, and the only reason they knew was a combination of luck and mystic good fortune.

Orko fluttered down and gazed intently not at the hinges, but at the crest of the small slope. After a few moments of earnest contemplation, he said, "Back away."

Duncan wasn't sure whether he moved to give the magician space, or if he simply wanted to avoid the potential side effects of whatever spell Orko was about to attempt, but he moved backwards as did the others.

Orko murmured a few syllables and a bit of dust puffed out of a crack, revealing the shape of a trapdoor. "Oh!!" he moaned in frustration. "That wasn't quite it!" Before any of them could respond, Orko began again. A moment later, a ledge of stone rose out of the ground, tilting up at the hinges Felinar had found to reveal a set of rough hewn stone steps.

Duncan walked forward and peered down them, listening. Then he started down, followed first by Buzz Off and Felinar. There were no lights and no sounds below them, and he hoped desperately that they would find her and her prisoners down there.

* * *

Daviona got Jeclarren and Sanviro moving. Moving slowly, they picked up the bundles from her workroom floor and hefted them onto their backs. Controlled thusly, there was only so much they could do. She didn't have the power to control them too closely, but she got them walking toward the portal without too much effort. Magical gates took an enormous amount of energy, and she didn't want to keep this one open any longer than necessary.

First Jeclarren and then Sanviro entered the portal and stepped through. Lifting her own bundle she started toward it. Just as she reached it, she felt the outermost of her defenses falling to her enemies. Pausing briefly, she left them a little present.

Chuckling richly, she followed her pets into hiding.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Duncan burst through the door at the base of the steps into a hallway that reminded him vaguely of the place they'd found Adam. It was just as lushly appointed, but clearly considerably older and not as well cared for. It was well-lit and the air was fresh, and Duncan paused, listening for any sound. Nothing came to his ears. He sent part of the team to the right and headed left himself with the rest.

There was a door off the hallway. Gesturing two of the others to stand with their backs against the walls on either side of it, he opened it quickly and stepped back. Nothing happened, so he walked inside. It was a long narrow room with a table, two doors at the end and not much else. The doors were of a light wood, matching the floor and the paneling of the walls. He walked towards the doors but just as he reached the center of the room a low feminine voice spoke, amusement ringing in her tones.

"I see you have found me, gentlemen. I trust that you feel quite proud of yourselves at this point." It was Daviona's voice, no question about it, and Duncan's hand shifted, activating his hand cannon without his consciously choosing to. There was a tinkle of laughter, and though he was sure it wasn't in response to his action it still grated on his nerves. "I hope you will not be too disappointed to know that you are too late, especially if I tell you that as I say this you are even now entering the top of my staircase." Duncan grit his teeth to keep from shouting obscenities because he had to hear the rest of what she said, and this would probably only happen this once. "My darling pets have gone ahead of me, and are thus out of your reach. Enjoy what time you have, gentlemen, for when I seize your prince, you will suffer untold miseries." That last was said in the same cheerful tones as all the rest and Duncan could feel himself start to growl and repressed it firmly.

There was dead silence for a moment, then a shrill shrieking filled the room as Teela let loose a stream of invective that was firmly and terrifyingly punctuated by a blast of energy shooting from the end of her staff and incinerating the table that sat in this room.

After a moment, one of the soldiers spoke in a determinedly calm tone. "I didn't know her staff could do that."

Duncan seized on the opportunity. Without missing a beat, he turned and said, "New upgrade." The soldiers all nodded, looking a good bit calmer. "Teela, why don't you put that away."

Looking no less stunned than her father felt, she nodded and, telescoping it down again, hung it off her belt. Mekanek shot him a look that told him he didn't buy the story in the slightest and walked forward to put his arm around Teela. She looked up at him, clearly startled, but she didn't pull away.

Reassured that Teela was under control again, Duncan started searching the facility. In the lab and in what were clearly her private chambers, there were signs of a hasty departure, including an abandoned project. And then there were the two rooms that had clearly housed her prisoners. Once they had ascertained that Daviona had, in fact, fled, taking the young men with her, Duncan went to stand in the middle of one of those rooms. It was very small, almost claustrophobic. And its purpose was all too evident.

Duncan shivered at the thought of those two boys trapped here with that evil witch. He ground his teeth in frustration. _Damn it! We came so close!_

He heard Manny's voice in the outer room. "Orko, do you really think you –" His words were cut off by a sudden, soundless concussion.

* * *

Jeclarren had always wondered what real magic was like. Not the shows put on by hucksters in the street at fairtime, but magic like out of stories. He knew people who had seen it, during the wars or in Eternos City. As he walked through a doorway after Sanviro with no more control over his feet than he had over the rising of the sun, he decided he'd had enough of magic to last him several lifetimes.

Out of orders, he and Sanviro stopped in the middle of the room. The door closed behind them, and there was the clear sound of tumblers turning, and then a bar being placed across it. A second later, the spell controlling them released.

Sanviro turned and made immediately for the door, but Jeclarren stayed where he was, looking around at their new prison. The walls were solid stone that had been smoothed. He turned slowly, scanning the walls, the ceiling and the floor. As far as he could see, the only break in the stone was the doorway, which was closed by a thick wooden door with iron bands to reinforce it.

"Lady!" called Sanviro. "Lady, what is happening?"

Jecarren did not expect an answer, so he turned in surprise when the woman spoke. "Nothing that need concern you, sweet thing."

"But why did you move us?" Sanviro asked pleadingly. Jeclarren stood very still. Perhaps they'd get some information at last. She seemed to respond more readily to the younger man, never so far with an answer to a question, but there was always a first time.

She didn't speak, and Sanviro turned, placing his back against the wall beside the door, eyes closed. Jeclarren hadn't gotten a really good look at his fellow captive till now. Sanviro seemed to be a little taller, and his hair was brown. _What does she want us for?_ he wondered again. He walked to the door where there was a barred window at eye level.

The woman, who still hadn't given him her name, was unpacking the bundles she'd had them carry to this place. He looked at the cavern and compared it to the paneled room that had been outside their prison before. Why would she choose to trade that comfortable dwelling for a cave?

Beside him, Sanviro let out a strangled sob and slid down the wall to the floor. Jeclarren looked down at the boy, uncertain what he could do.

After a moment, he squatted and said, "We'll be okay, kid. We'll work something out."

Sanviro shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he murmured. "I cannot return to my Romily after this."

_Romily? Oh . . ._ "That your betrothed?" The boy nodded. Jeclarren was at a loss. He'd been on his own since he was nine, and he had no experience of any kind with relationships. Sanviro was weeping, though, so he made a hesitant stab at consolation. "If she loves you, it won't matter to her."

For a moment, he thought this had made a difference, but then Sanviro shook his head again. "No, I can't! I'm tainted. There's something wrong with me. I – I –"

Jeclarren turned and sat down beside his fellow prisoner. This he understood. He felt the dismay and disturbance of having enjoyed the madwoman's attentions. "There's nothing wrong with you, Sanviro," he said. "It's that stuff she's giving us. She's drugging us."

Sanviro knit his brows, his tears slowing as he listened. "But how . . . how could drugs make me –"

"Us," Jeclarren said, shuddering at the memory of her hands on his skin. "And I don't know how it works, but she's some kind of witch."

His companion nodded, and his fists clenched in his lap. "I want to go home."

"I want out of here," Jeclarren agreed.

"Where do you live?" Sanviro asked.

Jeclarren shrugged. "Tronak, in the west quarter, but I move around a bit. You?"

"Yalin," the boy said. "It's a little village on the outskirts."

He nodded. "I know of it, but I've never been there."

"I wasn't born there," Sanviro said. "I've only been there just about two years."

"What took you to such a small place?"

Sanviro laughed. "It seems quite large to me," he said. "I grew up on a farm holding south of there. My mother, when my father died, his sister took us in." There followed a tale that had much melodrama and, Jeclarren thought, a grain of truth. He and his mother had been taken in by his father's sister and her husband when Sanviro was six. When Sanviro was twelve, his mother had died, and then two years ago, his uncle by marriage had died, his wife following him a few weeks later. Since they were childless, the holding had fallen to a cousin who was no more related to Sanviro than Jeclarren was and the boy had been turned off.

_He ought to write songs,_ Jeclarren thought as Sanviro told his tale, infusing it with much emotion and woe. "So, what happened then?"

"I wandered for a few weeks until I found my way into Yalin, where the local tanner took pity on me. I had some training in tannery, so I was an apt student, and he didn't have a son to pass the trade to."

Jeclarren sighed. _Change weeks to days and it's probably closer to the truth, but with his angelic face and nature, he probably had no trouble finding a place._ "So you plan to take the business over from him when he retires?"

Sanviro nodded. "And Romily and I were to be wed in the spring, after she turns seventeen."

Biting his lip, Jeclarren shook his head. "You will be wed in the spring," he said firmly. "We'll get out of here somehow."

The younger man smiled at him. "You really think so?"

Jeclarren was nodding when he heard a footstep outside the door that made him stiffen. Sanviro froze, and it took a moment for Jeclarren to realize that the boy wasn't paralyzed by fear but by spell. "Stand up, Jeclarren," said the woman from outside the door. Nervously, he rose to his feet and turned to face the window. She was looking in at him, her eyes narrowed with irritation. "Raise your hands to the opening," she said. He didn't immediately comply, and she raised an eyebrow. "My potions don't have to be pleasant." The look in her eyes made him believe that she was capable of a great deal more than simply forcing him to have sex with her. He did as he was told and she slid a rope through the bars on the window and then gestured. It wrapped itself around his wrists, binding him securely. "Step back," she said.

His gut chill with apprehension, he did, and she swung the door open. "Taking a big risk, aren't you? What's to stop me from charging you?"

She smiled. "I'm trusting to your good sense to recognize that you shouldn't kill your source of food until you know there's a way out." He didn't say anything because she was right. Getting lost in caves could be awfully chancy. As a boy he'd gotten lost in the catacombs under the city, and it had been hell finding his way out again. Her smile broadened. "Good boy. Now, come out of there."

He walked the few steps out of the room, and she shut the door behind him, locking and barring it with a wave of her hand. A moment later, he heard scrambling and turned his head to see Sanviro staring out through the opening.

The woman tied another length of rope around his bound wrists and tugged. Gritting his teeth, he played along, following her out of the room. As he started down a corridor that would take him out of sight, he glanced back and saw Sanviro watching, eyes wide and frightened. Jeclarren gave him a wink to try and reassure him, though he was frankly terrified. What did she want? Had she heard them talking?

She led him down to a room in which stood a chair that was attached to the floor. It had cuffs on the arms and legs, and it looked like some kind of torture device to Jeclarren. "Sit down," she said. He didn't move. Turning her back on him, she walked over to the other side of the room and picked up a small glass vial and a syringe off a counter. Slowly putting them together, she said, "I could simply freeze you as I did Sanviro, but when this turns your legs to jelly, you'd fall, and I'd rather you didn't hurt yourself."

Unwillingly, Jeclarren walked over and sat down in the chair. At the moment his weight was supported by the chair, she raised her free hand and closed it, and he felt his body go out of his control. It wasn't like earlier. She wasn't controlling his movements. She had simply stopped him from being able to move on his own. Putting the syringe down, she crossed the room and bound him into the chair quickly, then released the spell.

Automatically, he tested the bonds to see if he could break them, but he hadn't the strength. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Your total devotion and loyalty," she said, smiling sweetly. She walked back across the room and leaned against the counter the syringe was sitting on. _She's nuts!_ he thought uneasily. _What will she do to me when she doesn't get it? Can I fake it?_ "Don't worry, it's easily achieved, with a minimum of pain to you. All it requires is the right drugs, the right magic and a bit of effort on my part."

"I'll do anything you ask," he said, still trying to play up to her, but he could see from her amused expression that he wasn't going to get anywhere.

"Sweet thing, I've been doing this for more than four hundred and fifty years," she said. "Now, there are several reasons I brought you in here. One is that I want to know what you think you're doing talking that way to Sanviro."

He closed his eyes. "Just trying to buck him up," he said.

His eyes snapped open as he heard a footfall coming towards him. She walked around behind him and put her hands in his hair. "No one is going to find you, Jeclarren, and there is no escape from me. Once you start taking my drugs, to stop again is certain death."

He blinked. It was undoubtedly possible. Drugs could be terribly addictive. But would death be the better alternative?

"Now, I want you to stop interfering with Sanviro's acclimation," she said, stroking his scalp through his hair. "I would prefer not to separate you. The bond between my young men is almost as important as their bond to me. But if you must be isolated for a time to persuade you to see the error of your ways, I will do so."

Jeclarren gulped. "What did I say that was so wrong?"

"There is no escape, Jeclarren," she said softly, kissing him on the top of the head. Her hands dropped to his shoulders and slipped inside his shirt. "You are mine, and nothing that is mine escapes me for long." There was a hard edge to her voice as she finished that statement and Jeclarren flinched.

_For long?_ he wondered. _What does that mean?_

"So, you will say nothing more about this wedding he fantasizes about, nor about the two of you getting out of here." She leaned down and nibbled on his ear, and he jerked slightly, trying vainly to get of reach. With her arms aorund his neck and her hands inside his shirt that was an impossibility, of course. "Repeat after me, sweet thing. 'There is no escape.'" She paused for a moment. "Say it, Jeclarren, or I will put you somewhere else and poor Sanviro won't know where you've gone. Say it. 'There is no escape.'"

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the sensations her stroking of his skin caused. "There is no . . . escape," he forced out.

"Good boy," she trilled in his ear. She fondled him for a few more moments and then drew away again, walking back over to the counter. "Now, for the second reason I brought you here," she said, walking over to him with the syringe and giving him a shot in his right arm. The skin there began to go numb instantly. She returned to the counter and fiddled with something for a moment. "It's time to mark you as my property." Then she turned and his eyes widened when he saw that the object in her hands was glowing red with heat.

* * *

Duncan shook his head and rolled onto his knees. He could hear the soldiers and the masters in the other room, muttering and asking questions. He pulled himself to his feet and walked out there. _"Man-at-Arms, what has happened?"_

"_I'm not sure yet, myself. Give me a few minutes."_

Orko lay on the floor, resembling nothing so much as a limp set of clothes. Man-E-Faces lay nearby on his back, clearly unconscious. "What happened?" Duncan demanded of the nearest person.

"I'm not sure, sir," Ivan said, shaking his head. "Orko said something about finding the other end of

something, then he started doing magic."

Ram-Man went down on his knees beside the fallen wizard. "He's alive," he said. "But he doesn't sound very good."

"We'll have to get him to the Sorceress," Duncan said. "In the meantime, I don't want anybody touching anything. In fact, let's get everyone out of here." He got the complex evacuated. When Man-E-Faces started coming around, Stratos helped him to his feet and got him out. Ram-Man carried Orko, and he could see that Mekanek was still minding Teela.

When they reached the surface, he walked over to Manny and said, "What did Orko do, exactly?"

The master was sitting on a large rock, rubbing his forehead. "He said he found a portal that had been used recently, and he wanted to see where it went." Manny shrugged. "I didn't think it was such a good idea to be messing with it, but he said the information would dissipate quickly if we didn't move fast."

"So he meddled with it?" Manny nodded and Duncan sighed in exasperation, hoping desperately that Orko was going to be all right.

"_He was right,"_ the Sorceress said. _"If she had not lain a trap for him, he might have discovered her new hiding place."_

"_With that trap laid, was there any way anyone could have found where she is?"_

"_No. It is an old spell, no longer widely known, designed to scramble the information stored in the portal spell's residue. Such portals are no longer common, but once they were used frequently by the more indulgent wizards of Eternia. Perhaps she is old enough to remember a time when being tracked in that way was a real danger."_

He nodded, knowing she could, in all likelihood, see him, then he looked up. "He was on the right track, he just set off a trap."

Manny rubbed the back of his neck. "Has he moved at all yet?" he asked.

"Nope," Ram-Man replied worriedly.

"We'd better get moving, then," Duncan said. "I want Mekanek's team to stay here and guard this doorway. Teela, Nalineph, get back to the palace and trace the ownership of this plot of land. The rest of you, back to bed and we'll rotate guard duty on this location until we can get someone with suitable knowledge to check it out and make sure it's safe to search. Ram-Man, you're with me."

There was a ragged chorus of agreement and a few salutes, and they sorted themselves out according to orders. Duncan and Ram-Man headed to Grayskull as quickly as the wind raider could safely carry them. The drawbridge lowered and Duncan started into the castle with Ram-Man carrying Orko at his side. The way lit up, leading them towards Adam's suite, and Duncan followed it, not without misgivings. _Do we really need to visit this on Adam in the middle of the night?_

When they arrived, Randor, Adam and Dorgan were all in the sitting room, drinking some warm beverage or other. It smelled like chai. "What are you all doing up?" he asked as they entered.

Adam jumped up when he saw the limp form of Orko in Ram-Man's arms. "Is he okay? What's wrong?"

"He triggered a trap," Duncan said. "I was hoping that the Sorceress could help him."

"Well, bring him in here and when she comes back, I'm sure she will," Dorgan said. Ram-Man and Adam followed the healer, so Duncan turned to Randor.

"Why are you all out of bed?" he asked.

"Daviona attacked Adam," Randor said. "I assumed you knew."

Duncan sat down with a thump. "He seems all right." _Not that I saw much of him._

Randor nodded, looking off toward the room where Adam had gone. "Fortunately, the Sorceress put shields on him this afternoon, and they held up against the attack. It woke him, though, and the outer shields around the castle came up."

"And no one was going to go to sleep after that," Duncan finished for him. Randor nodded. "We found her lair, but she'd already gone, taking both boys with her."

The king rose explosively to his feet. "Damn!"

Duncan just nodded unhappily. "She left a message taunting us. Evidently, she escaped literally as we entered the place."

"And the trap that Orko sprang?"

"She used some kind of magical portal to escape, and it had a trap on it. When Orko tried to find out where it went . . ." Duncan shrugged. "Manny was knocked unconscious, it threw the rest of us to the ground, and I'm not sure what's wrong with Orko just yet."

"Hell," Randor growled. "What more could go wrong?"

Duncan shook his head. "I don't want to know the answer to that question, sire."

His friend subsided back to his seat again and sighed. "No, I don't either, truth be told. I just want this to be over, and for everything to go back to normal."

* * *

Adam stood by the end of the bed watching worriedly as Dorgan worked on Orko. Evidently Ram-Man had helped with Orko's medical treatment in the past, though Adam had never known anything about it, because the healer gave him orders and he seemed to know what he was doing. The prince was on the verge of asking if he could help when Dorgan bustled past and ran into him.

"Adam, go out into the sitting room and stop hovering," the healer growled. "I'll let you know how he is."

Feeling useless, he went back out into the sitting room, but just as he entered, he heard his father say, "I just want this to be over, and for everything to go back to normal."

Guilt clenched his stomach, and he felt the hot sting of tears in his eyes. He was keeping his father from important work that needed doing because he was such a pathetic wretch. Stifling the tears and the sobs they threatened to evoke, he crept across the room and into his bedchamber, shutting the door most of the way behind him. If he latched it, they would hear, so he had to leave it just slightly ajar.

Then he threw himself on the bed, and, burying his face in a pillow, let the sobs loose.

* * *

Duncan shook his head and Randor raised an eyebrow. "Normal is just what they will never be again. Things have changed irrevocably."

Sighing, the king nodded. "I know that, Duncan. I didn't mean that precisely. I just want Daviona dead, Adam feeling better about himself again, and things moving along the way they should. I wish I could make it so Adam could skip all the pain that lies in between."

His friend nodded. "I know how you feel, but it's just not possible. Life –"

"You don't have to lecture me, Duncan!" Randor snapped. Duncan blinked in surprise, and the king bit his lip. "I'm sorry, I –"

"No, you were completely within your rights. I was lecturing. It's a habit I should learn to control better."

"Far be it from me to disagree," Randor said, earning a dry look from his man-at-arms.

"Well, I've got guards on the newest hidey-hole, which actually appears to be a relatively old hidey-hole. I need to find someone who can look it over and make sure it's safe for a non-magical search. We can't know what other booby-traps she may have left behind."

"That's true," Randor said, and they fell to discussing their options, especially with Orko currently out of commission. The Sorceress came in, barely nodded to them, and went straight in to check on the magician.

Duncan was in the midst of describing the facility they'd just located when Cringer walked up beside Randor and butted against his leg so hard he nearly shoved him sideways on the sofa. He looked down at the cat in surprise, and Duncan broke off what he was saying.

"Yes, Cringer?" Randor said, reaching out to pet the cat's head.

Cringer ducked out from under his hand and put a paw on his leg. When he just looked down at the yellow eyes in confusion, five claws came out of the paw and sank into his leg.

Randor let out a cry of surprise and pain and got to his feet. As soon as he was upright, the cat butted him again, pushing him toward the bedroom door. "I think I'd better go see what he wants," Randor said. Duncan nodded and sat back to wait.

Once he was moving under his own power toward the bedroom, Cringer ran on ahead and shoved the door open with his nose. When he got inside, he jumped up on the bed and sat down next to Adam, who lay on his stomach, shoulders shaking with sobs.

Pushing the door closed, Randor went to his son's side and sat down, putting his hand on Adam's back. "What is it?"

Adam just pulled away, curling into a ball facing the opposite direction.

Randor stroked the back of Adam's head. "Adam, what's wrong?"

"It doesn't matter!" Adam moaned, hunching tighter.

"It does matter," Randor said, shifting so that he could pull his son into his arms. "Tell me what's got you so upset? Is it Orko?"

"I'm useless!" Adam burst out. "I can't even help with that."

"What?"

"Dorgan told me to stop hovering, and then you –" Adam stopped talking abruptly and tucked his head into his arms.

"What?" Randor asked. "I what?"

"It doesn't matter!" Adam groaned. "You should go back to the palace. You have things you should be doing."

"It's the middle of the night."

"Then you should be sleeping, not cossetting me because I'm being a pathetic twerp."

"Adam, I'm here because I love you."

His son rolled over. "So, I know it. You love me. Now you should go back to the palace because you have a job to do that's not getting done."

Randor shook his head, baffled. "What needs to be done is being done, Adam. And I have a job here that needs doing far more urgently."

"Oh," Adam said, sounding as if he suddenly understood something he hadn't before. And before Randor could try and figure out what that was, he burst into fresh sobs. Cringer butted against his back very firmly, and he could read the message loud and clear.

Laying down on his side, he pulled Adam into his arms and held him tightly. "I'm not leaving you, son. I love you, and you need me. I –"

"I don't!" Adam exclaimed through his tears, but he didn't pull away. "I don't need you!"

"Where is this coming from?" Randor asked in puzzlement. "Adam, you do need me, and it's okay that you need me."

Adam shook his head, but he didn't say anything else. Randor didn't know what to make of this sudden behavior shift. What was wrong?

The door behind him opened, but he didn't want to twist to see who was coming in. At the sound it made, however, Adam stiffened. A second later, he pulled away against Randor's attempt to hold on to him and, not looking up, went straight into the bathing chamber and shut the door, closing even Cringer out. Randor rolled over and looked up at Duncan, who was gazing toward the closed door with a look of perplexity.

Cringer walked over to it and looked up at the handle. Then he turned and walked straight across to Randor, giving him a solid butt with his head against the king's knee.

* * *

Adam leaned against the bathing room door, wishing this would all just end. Wishing he didn't have to be the Crown Prince of Eternia, or the Champion of Grayskull, or anyone else. Wishing he had a clue of what he did want to be.

_Father wants things to be normal again_. How that thought hurt! Normal meant rarely seeing his father, and never talking to him. Normal meant having to pretend again.

_Well, if it's normal he wants,_ Adam thought, _then normal he gets._ Taking a deep breath, he tried to compose himself. _This won't do._ He crossed to the sink and splashed cold water on his face, trying to wash away the evidence of his crying jag. Looking up into the mirror, however, he could see that his eyes were red and swollen.

There wasn't anything he could do about that. He'd just have to be normal enough to convince his father that he could go back to the palace. The worst of it was that the thought of his father leaving made his gut twist into knots. He clenched his fists against the emotion and breathed deeply.

The door behind him opened, and he bit his lip. "Could I have a little privacy?" he asked loudly.

"Adam, are you all right?" his father asked.

The prince forced his voice to normal tones. "I'm fine," he lied. "I just needed to wash my face and use the privy. I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Very well," Randor said. "We'll be waiting." The door shut, leaving Adam alone with himself again.

He splashed water on his face again and leaned against the counter for a few minutes. _I can do this. I can do this._ Then he walked across to the door and put his hand on the handle. Before he could even turn it though, he felt his eyes begin to burn. He couldn't take it. He couldn't take any more.

Turning, he went back to the counter with the sink and opened a drawer. As he'd dimly remembered, there was a razor within. It was his father's. He didn't need one yet, so he'd ignored its presence.

Until now.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

"He says he wants some privacy, and the Elders know he's had little of that," Randor said. He was uneasy with Adam out of his sight, though, and Cringer kept glaring at him.

"That's true," Duncan said.

"I'm just not sure I like leaving him alone," Randor said. "Even if he wants privacy . . . it still seems somehow –" He shook his head and strode across the room. "Not yet. He's not ready yet."

"Randor!" Duncan exclaimed behind him, but he ignored his man-at-arms, pulling the door open and walking into the bathing chamber.

What met his eyes made his heart stop. Adam sat on the bench next to the bathtub, his father's razor in his right hand. He had just sliced deeply into his left arm.

Without stopping to think, he leapt forward and pulled his son's arms apart. "No, Father!" Adam exclaimed.

"Dorgan!" Randor screamed, gripping Adam's left arm tightly, trying to stop the flow of blood. He grabbed the razor out of Adam's other hand and tossed it into the tub, then snatched a towel down with some vague idea of using it to staunch the flow of blood, but he didn't dare release the pressure he was already placing on the wound, holding it closed.

Duncan ran into the room, let out a startled exclamation and retreated.

"Father, let me die," Adam begged. "It would be so much easier if I was just not here. If I didn't have to feel."

"No, Adam, you may not," Randor said firmly. "I'm not going to let you die. I love you. You're my son, and I absolutely refuse to let you die."

Adam began weeping, tears streaming quietly down his face. Blood was oozing out between Randor's fingers despite the intense pressure he was keeping on his son's arm.

"Stay with me, Adam," Randor said. "Stay with me." _Where's that damned healer?_ "I love you, Adam, I need you. You can't die! Stay with me!"

"But I can't," Adam moaned. "I can't get back to normal. I can't even pretend to be normal. I'm a weak, pathetic coward –"

"You're none of those things!" Randor growled. "You're strong and brave. You've survived something that I don't know if I could survive, and come out of it able to joke and laugh to keep the rest of us sane. I –"

Dorgan arrived and Randor heard the sharp intake of breath as he took in the seriousness of the wound. "Hold on, Randor. I'm going to need you to keep the pressure on for a bit."

"No problem," he replied.

The healer knelt down, opening his kit up beside him. "Adam, stay with us," he said, and Adam just turned his head away, still crying. "What did he use?"

"My razor." He nodded toward the tub.

Bending, Dorgan picked up a pre-threaded needle and looked up at Randor. "I'm going to need you to hold his arm steady," he said. The king nodded. "Release the pressure."

He did, and the blood started pouring out again. He focused on just keeping Adam's arm from moving as the healer stitched the vein closed, covering the stiches with some kind of gel. "Surgical glue," Dorgan muttered when he saw Randor watching him. "Helps seal it more effectively, and promotes healing."

With the vein sewn closed, Dorgan proceeded to stitch the skin back together. Adam twitched a little at the pain, but he didn't make a sound. When the wound was finally closed, Dorgan wet a cloth and wiped Adam's arm a little cleaner. "Bring him into the exam room," he said, standing up. "I think I'd better give him some blood back."

Randor scooped his son up and carried him through the sitting room and into the exam room. Orko still lay on the bed, but it was a wide surface. Sitting on the bed, he lay Adam down in front of him, so that his son was leaning against his chest. Dimly, he noticed that the Sorceress sat beside Orko, holding his hand, apparently in trance.

Dorgan set up an intravenous bag with Adam's blood in it, but when he moved toward the boy with the needle in his hands, Adam pulled away. "No! Can't you just let me die?"

"What?" Ram-Man emerged from the corner where he'd been sitting. "Adam, you can't die!"

"Randor, hold his arm for me, would you?" Dorgan ordered.

The king held his son's arm steady, while Adam tried to get out of his grip. The boy, weakened by blood loss and despair, didn't have the strength to break free.

"Adam, why would you want to die?" Ram-Man exclaimed. He leaned across the bed and took Adam's right hand in his. "You can't die! We need you. The masters all miss you, and we're always getting questions from the servants and courtiers. Everyone misses you, and they'd be real unhappy if you died."

"I can't stand this," Adam said. "I want it to end!"

"Well, death isn't the answer," Dorgan said gruffly as he finished setting up the transfusion. He squeezed Adam's knee.

"It isn't," Ram-Man said earnestly. "We'd miss you lots."

The door swung open with a bang, causing them all to jump and Marlena rushed across the room. Dorgan backed out of the way just in time as she sat on the edge of the bed and put her arms around Adam. Her words were too fast and mingled with tears to be clearly understood, but Adam started crying again. After a moment, so did Randor as the full enormity of what had happened sank in. He still didn't fully understand why it had happened, but they had come too close. If he'd stayed in the other room, giving Adam the privacy he'd asked for . . . he didn't want to think about it.

They sat there together for a long while. Randor stroked Adam's hair. Ram-Man let Adam's hand go, and the boy put it on his mother's back. The largest of the masters walked to the foot of the bed and stood there uncertainly next to Duncan, who looked utterly devastated. "He'll be okay, Man-at-Arms, won't he?" Ram-Man said in an audible undertone.

Duncan nodded. "We'd better head back to the palace," he said, not meeting Randor's eyes. "I'll be back later in the day, sire."

Randor nodded and the two masters left. Marlena had fallen silent and was just holding Adam in her arms now. Dorgan was remaining politely on the other side of the room, though that hardly seemed necessary. He was intimately involved in all of this.

Orko stirred and sat up. "Where am I?" he asked, blinking and rubbing his head.

"Grayskull," the Sorceress said. Randor looked over at her and saw that she had not yet opened her eyes.

Orko turned and said, "What's the matter with Adam?"

The Sorceress' eyes snapped open and she stared across at the family, eyes wide. _"King Randor, what has happened?"_

Startled that she was speaking in his head when he was no more than three feet from her, he opened his mouth to respond, then thought better of it. _"Adam attempted suicide again,"_ he said. _"And came a good deal closer to success._

"Adam?" Orko said, leaning over and patting his friend on the shoulder. Adam didn't respond, and Orko drew leaned closer. "Adam, it's Orko."

Randor felt Adam shift as he looked over at the jester. "Hi," he said, his voice listless. "Are you okay?"

Orko nodded. "I don't think I can float just yet, but I'm okay. What happened to you?"

Adam shrugged. "I'm glad you're okay," he said.

When he didn't repond directly to the jester's question, Orko tilted his head. "Thanks, but what happened to you?"

"Orko, you and I have further things to do," the Sorceress said, gathering the Trollan up in her arms.

"But –" Orko gestured toward Adam.

"Come along," she said and walked out of the room.

A moment later, Dorgan walked over and took Adam's blood pressure. Seeming satisfied, he gave Randor a nod. "I'll be back in a bit," he said and left the room

Marlena sat up and took Adam's hand. "Adam, we love you, and we don't want to lose you," she said.

Adam looked away and didn't say anything.

His mother reached out and stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers. "Adam, why?"

He shook his head, turning away and burying his face in Randor's chest. The king got the feeling that he'd rather move further and bury himself in something less parental, but he couldn't get far with the needle in his arm. Now that there was more space, Cringer jumped up beside them on the bed, leaning against Adam's leg.

Randor put his arms around his son, trying to think of something to say that would keep him from doing this again. "Don't leave us," he said. "I don't know if I could go on living without you."

Adam spoke, but his words were muffled in Randor's chest, but from the tone it was some kind of negation.

"You're the heart of me," Randor said, and Marlena nodded.

"We love you," she said. "I love you. You can't leave us alone." Cringer nuzzled him and Adam looked up. "You can't leave Cringer," Marlena added.

"I don't want to go on hurting," Adam said, sitting up a bit, pulling out of his father's arms. "And I can't – I can't go back to the way things were. I don't want things to go back!"

Randor shook his head. "Things aren't going to go back to the way they were," he said. "We've talked about this, Adam. I didn't realize how badly I was neglecting you." Randor caught Marlena's startled expression and was glad when she kept silent.

"But you said," Adam replied, sounding puzzled. Randor drew his brows together. "You said you wanted it to be over and for things to go back to normal."

Stunned, Randor stared at his son for a moment. Then he threw his arms around him and pulled him close. "No, that's not – I didn't mean – I just want you to feel better. I wish I could take all the pain away. I'd do anything if it would make you stop hurting."

"Then why can't you let me die?" Adam asked.

"Death isn't an answer to pain," Randor said. "And you'd miss so much, son. There are good things, things you've enjoyed even since this happened."

Adam looked up at him, his eyes still wet with tears. "It's not enough," he said.

"You just have to keep going." Randor cupped his son's cheek in his hand. "Things will get better, I promise. You'll feel better."

After a moment, Adam collapsed into his arms, weeping broken-heartedly. "It will never stop hurting! I can't take it. I'm a worthless, hopeless coward!"

"You are not!" Randor said.

Marlena's eyes were wide. "Adam, you're not a coward."

"I can't take this anymore. I'm weak, pathetic, useless . . . you'd be better off without me."

"We would not," Randor replied, stunned. "Adam, you're none of those things. You're a bright young man with a wonderful future ahead of you. You're not a coward. And you can do this. You can work through it. We'll do it together. One day at a time." He put his hands on Adam's head and drew him back just far enough so that they were looking eye to eye. "You're not alone, son. I'm not going to leave you."

Adam shook his head. "But I'm taking you away from your duty as king."

Randor shrugged. "If things can't get by without me for awhile, then I'm a rotten king." He smiled. "I'm not leaving you, Adam. You're not going to persuade me, so you might as well stop trying."

The boy's adrenaline seemed to have bottomed out, but he shook his head weakly. "I'm not as important as the kingdom."

"Adam, you're more important to me than the kingdom," Randor said, pulling him close. "And I think you need to sleep now."

He lay stiffly in Randor's arms for a few moments, but then his body slowly relaxed. His breathing gradually slowed and deepened as he fell into sleep.

Marlena looked up into his eyes. "How close was it? How bad is it?"

"Bad," Randor replied. "He cut through into his vein and lost a fair amount of blood. And it was very close. He asked for privacy and, Elders help me, I almost gave it to him."

"What are we going to do?" she asked. He shook his head helplessly, but her expression changed, became more determined. "Well, first of all, I'm staying."

Randor nodded. "That's good. He's missed you, and I know I have."

"And we'll just have to convince him that life's worth living."

Stroking Adam's hair, Randor felt his jaw harden. "That vile woman has much to answer for."

* * *

Duncan walked into the palace as it was waking up. Teela was waiting for them, looking as if she hadn't gone back to bed. He looked at her. "Teela, go up to the queen's bedchamber and pack her a bag. She'll be staying at Grayskull, I'd wager."

"What happened?" Teela asked.

"I'll explain later. Go gather her things." Teela nodded and ran nimbly up the stairs. "Ram-Man, get all the masters who are here gathered up. We'll have a meeting in an hour."

"Yes, sir, Man-at-Arms," Rammy said and walked off swiftly.

Then Duncan headed up to Randor's office, where he knew he'd find Jenkins. The king's secretary was shifting through the piles of work on the desk, and he looked up when Duncan came in. "Do you know when the queen will be back?"

"I doubt she will be," Duncan said. "She'll undoubtedly be staying with Adam and Randor until Adam can return."

"What about the kingdom?" Jenkins asked irritably. "It's bad enough that the king is spending this much time on this, but –"

Fury rose in Duncan's breast and he clenched his fists. Without meaning to, he activated his hand cannon, and Jenkins raised an eyebrow.

"Man-at-Arms, that is hardly appropriate. Why –"

Duncan walked towards him, and Jenkins fell silent and started backing away. When he could go no further, Duncan stopped. "I don't give a damn," he said in even tones, glaring into the secretary's eyes. "Adam nearly died today, and it's only because Randor kept his head that we still have him."

"Almost died?" Jenkins repeated, aghast. "Why? I thought the danger was past."

Duncan shook his head, turning away. He didn't need to have frightened him, he was just a fussy fool. He didn't feel very good about taking his own anger and guilt out on the man. "From the drugs, yes, I believe it largely is. This is confidential, of course, but he attempted suicide today."

"By the Elders . . . what happened?"

"I don't know exactly, but he cut one of his wrists very deeply with his father's razor." _And if Randor had listened to me, we would have lost him._

Jenkins was silent for a moment, then he said, "There are no pressing crises."

"Good. Let me know if something comes up. I can always take things to them at Grayskull if there's a problem."

Jenkins nodded and Duncan left the office. Teela met him at the base of the stairs. "What kinds of things will she need?" she asked. "I've got ordinary clothes and her toiletries packed up, but does she need anything else?"

Duncan put his arm around Teela and walked with her back to the royal bedchamber. "I'll give you a hand. There's something I need to tell you about, in any case." Perhaps apprehensive about what he needed to tell her, Teela remained quiet all the way there. He walked in and glanced at the packs, then sat on the bed, pulling his daughter down next to him and putting his arm around her again. "Dearheart, Adam's had a very bad night."

"Is he dead?" she asked, eyes wide and starting to tear.

"No, no, he's not dead," he assured her. "But . . . he's made another suicide attempt."

"How?"

"He cut open his forearm and almost bled to death." He nearly lost control of his voice, and Teela's tears started to fall. "He's fine now, Dorgan got to him in time, and he's giving him a transfusion, but it was very close."

Teela leapt to her feet. "I have to go to Grayskull!" she exclaimed.

"Not now, Teela," he replied. "First of all, he's asleep. Second, I have to tell the masters. We'll go in a couple hours."

She sank down beside him. "We can't – he can't – what are we going to do?"

"We're going to help him, Teela. Any way we can."

After a moment of silence, she buried her face in his chest and cried like a broken-hearted child. "He can't die! He can't!"

"We're not going to let him." He stroked her back and held her until her tears wound down. Eventually, it was nearly time for the meeting and he gently lifted her face. "Do you want to go to the meeting, or would you rather not?"

She bit her lip and stood up. "Just let me wash my face," she said brusquely, going into the bathing chamber. He heard water splashing while he glanced through the packs she'd put together for the queen.

When she emerged, he looked up and gave her a wry smile. "I can think of one thing else she needs," he said.

"What?"

"Underwear."

Teela grew a little pink and said, "Oh dear."

"Don't worry, we'll finish up here later."

They went down to the meeting hall where the masters waited in tense, unhappy silence. From the sidelong looks they were all giving Ram-Man, Duncan gathered that he hadn't shared his news, though from his dolorous expression much could be inferred.

"Is he dead?" Buzz Off asked.

The question set off pandemonium in the room. Stratos was shouting something at the Andrenid, Duncan couldn't quite understand what. Man-E-Faces was growling questions that Duncan couldn't hear over the din. Ram-Man was talking, but no one seemed to be paying him any heed. Sy-Klone and Roboto, after a moment, added their voices to the din, also asking questions, no doubt. Mekanek sat still, gazing up at Duncan's face, waiting, tension in every line of his body.

Behind him, Teela asked for quiet, but they didn't even hear her. She stepped closer to the table, and before Duncan quite knew what she was about, she had extended her staff. Raising it above her head she brought it down on the table. With a huge rending sound, the table cracked and tilted crazily.

The masters fell silent.

Duncan cleared his throat. "Thank you, Teela." She stepped back and hung her staff from her belt. "Adam is not dead and he's not dying." Some of the tension left Mekanek's shoulders. "However, he made a very serious attempt at suicide tonight, one that would have worked if his father hadn't been thinking clearly." The silence remained unbroken as each of the masters took this information in.

"Why would he attempt self-destruction?" Roboto asked finally. "What would it gain him?"

Taking a deep breath, Duncan sighed. "It's complicated, but in part, he doesn't want to feel the pain he's going through right now. He wants it to end."

"We gotta cheer him up!" Ram-Man exclaimed. "He was so . . ." His voice broke and burst into noisy sobs.

Mekanek stood up and patted him on the back. "We'll get him cheered, Rammy, won't we, Man-at-Arms?"

"It may be more complicated than that," Duncan said, fingering his jaw. "You don't know all of what Adam is facing." _And I can't tell you about a good piece of it._ "First, you all know what he went through in general, but none of you has seen it, and none of us has experienced it first hand. I can tell you that the impact it's had on Adam is profound." They were all silent now. "Furthermore, though Orko has made a big dent in the drugs that are still affecting him, he couldn't remove them all in one pass and he couldn't even touch one of them." Duncan sighed. "And I don't know what effect this suicide attempt will have on future treatments."

Mekanek raised his head slightly, and Duncan turned to him. "If you don't mind my asking, how did he do it?"

Duncan took a deep breath. "He used his father's razor . . . he cut his left wrist very badly. I don't know how many stitches, but it took Dorgan a long time to get the wound completely closed." He looked down at his hands. "He meant it. Dorgan had to stitch the vein." Those who had human-like blood and blood vessels murmured uncomfortably. Duncan cleared his throat. "So you can see why it might have an effect on a treatment that involves removing some of his blood from his body." Mekanek nodded, his neck retracting. "He's not aging, I don't know if any of you are aware of that. She put a spell on him to prevent aging and made it very difficult to remove." Duncan paused, trying to think what else he should tell them. "He finds it very difficult to spend time around women who are not his mother, and when he saw the Sorceress after Daviona's assaults, he panicked. He seems to have gotten past that, but he's not comfortable with women in general." There were quite a few glances in Teela's direction at that statement and he shrugged. "We're going to work him past it, but it will take time. In addition, I didn't tell you before, but Skeletor wasn't after Grayskull this last time. He was after Adam in particular."

"What?"

"Why?

"That no good scoundrel!"

He let them grumble and growl for a few moments, then held up a hand. "Adam is a well. Evidently that's a term sorcerers use for someone who stores a lot of magical energy in themselves, but doesn't have magical abilities himself."

"So what does that mean?" Man-E-Faces asked.

"The term 'well,'" Roboto said, "implies that the power could be drawn upon from without, as water is drawn from a well." He turned to Duncan. "Is that correct?"

"It is," Duncan replied, nodding. "And now Evil-Lyn and Skeletor know it and want to take advantage."

"Is there not some way that the Sorceress can protect him?" Stratos asked.

Duncan opened his mouth to respond but Sy-Klone spoke before he could. "It is not so simple as that," he said. "To put an ordinary shield on a well would guarantee illness and could lead to death."

"Why?"

"How it was explained to me is this: there are tides of magical energy just as there are tides in the sea. There will be times when a well is full to overflowing, and others when it will drain. An ordinary magical shield prevents this natural movement. And when you dam up water in a small space, it stagnates and grows foul. The same thing happens with magical power."

"So how do you protect someone like that?"

Sy-Klone shook his head. "I do not know."

"The Sorceress is working on it," Duncan said. "The shield she put on him yesterday deflected the attack Daviona made on him last night."

"We have got to find her!" Ram-Man growled. "She's got to be made to pay for what she's done! And what she's doing." He looked up at Duncan. "She's doing it to those two right now, isn't she?"

"I'm afraid so, Rammy," Duncan replied. "I haven't gotten a report on what the potion that was brewing in her workroom was, but I think it's safe to say she's up to her old tricks."

"So what are we going to do?" Mekanek asked.

"Right now, Teela and I are going to Grayskull. The queen will be staying for the forseeable future, I would suspect, with Adam in this state. I would like . . ." He shook his head. "I have no idea where to start looking now. Mek, work out a rotation schedule to keep the new hole covered until I can get someone with some magical knowledge to take a look at it, would you?"

"Already done," Mekanek said, lifting a sheet of paper. "I thought you might need a little back up after last night."

Duncan took it and scanned the list. "That'll work out fine." He handed it back and turned to the others. "When you're not on duty guarding the hole, I want you to get some rest, but stay available. We don't know when we're going to get the next lead, so you're all on call."

With that, he turned the meeting over to Mekanek, and he and Teela headed back to the royal quarters. They finished with Marlena's packing and took the bags down to a wind raider and headed off to Grayskull.

* * *

Jeclarren sat in one of the corners of the room that was serving as their prison. He was shaking with exhaustion, but he didn't want to be on anything that resembled a bed at the moment. His arm was beginning to ache now that the anesthetic had worn off, and he was using that pain to cling to consciousness.

She'd taken him from that torture chair into a chamber that was lushly appointed. He'd walked under his own power, but he hadn't had much choice about obedience. Whatever else she was, she was the best manipulator he'd ever met.

Once in that chamber, she had gotten him onto the bed and taken him repeatedly, till he could barely stand up. Then she'd returned him to their original prison – and taken Sanviro.

He didn't want to sleep. He wanted to think about this. She was very adamant that there was no possibility of escape . . . too adamant? Was she trying to convince herself? This change of locations, too, it was extremely odd. He got the distinct impression that this was a woman who liked her luxuries, and while the bed in that chamber had been richly hung, the walls were bare stone. It was chill in these caves, though not damp, thank the Elders. He shook his head. It didn't make sense.

The only thing that did make sense, with the haste of their departure and the lower quality of their new surroundings, was that she was running from something. Was someone looking for her? Had she done something to a rich man who had the wherewithal to mount a search? Or a nobleman? Or one of those war lords on the southern continent?

The other thing that had occurred to him that made escape somewhat chancy was that he had no idea whatsoever where they were. For all he knew they were _on_ the southern continent. She'd clearly used magic to transport them, so they could be anywhere, he supposed. There might not be anywhere to go, even if they reached the surface.

But if someone was looking for her, and they found her, that might be a way out for them. Of course, whoever it was might just want to kill her and would kill them as well, neither knowing nor caring that they were prisoners. Jeclarren still hadn't decided whether or not death was preferable to life like this, so he wasn't sure what he thought of that possibility. On the other hand, this unknown searcher might not care about them one way or the other, and could decide to let them do what they wanted.

Or the unknown searcher might be foiled by this move and never find her.

He shook his head and brought his knees up to his chest. She had allowed him to dress again, perhaps not wanting him to be too cold, but he still felt naked. Resting his chin on his knees, he focused on the burgeoning pain in his arm. He didn't want Sanviro coming back to find him asleep.

Time dragged by, with nothing to do it was hard to keep track of it. Finally, he heard footsteps outside the door, one set sure and steady, the other faltering. The bar rattled as it was removed from the door, and the locks clicked. Sanviro stumbled in, his eyes dark with a combination of weariness and misery. He stopped once across the threshold, as if losing the will to move. The door shut behind him, and Jeclarren heard the sounds of it being secured again, then light footsteps walking away.

He shoved himself to his feet and walked slowly across to his fellow captive. Sanviro's arm bore the same brand as his, and Jeclarren knew that the anesthesia would wear off soon. When he got close enough to be in Sanviro's line of sight, the boy looked up, seeming surprised. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Jeclarren felt a lump rise in his throat. With the ghost of a grin, he said, "Yeah, right as rain." The lie was palpable, and Sanviro echoed his grin briefly. Then his expression changed, and he began to sob, horrible wrenching sounds.

Jeclarren put his arm around the boy and pulled him over to one of the cots, getting him to sit down. He held Sanviro close while the younger man wept out his grief and misery. He wanted to say something comforting, but most of what he could think of to say was forbidden. Gradually, the sobs quieted, and Sanviro fell asleep. Jeclarren lowered him to the mattress and lay beside him, finally allowing sleep to come.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

Marlena awoke feeling tense and uncomfortable when the light of dawn hit her in the eyes. She sat up, stiffly. She had pulled a chair over to the bed, intending to stay awake so that they wouldn't both be asleep while Adam was, but evidently her body hadn't cooperated. Adam and Randor were still fast asleep on the bed, so she rose and went across the room to close the drapes against the rising sun.

Then she turned and found her son's eyes upon her. She went back over to the bed and sat down on the edge. "Good morning, Adam," she said, smiling.

He didn't return either the smile or the greeting, he just looked away at the ceiling. Reaching out, she took his right hand. "Adam, sweetheart, talk to me."

He didn't reply immediately, and she waited as patiently as she could. Finally he took a deep breath and said, "About what?"

"About anything. About what you're feeling."

Adam sighed. "I don't have anything to talk about," he said. "Nothing is ever going to change. I will always be what I am today, and I don't want that."

"Adam, things always change," she said. "Nothing stays the same."

He looked at her, his brows coming together. "Mother, I'm a well. Wizards may not have noticed me up till this point, but there are too many people who know now. Secrets don't stay secrets when this many people know them." He thumped his head back against his father's chest. "Every evil wizard on the planet will start realizing, and they'll all be after me."

"And we'll deal with all of them," Marlena said firmly. "Even if I have to depopulate half the planet to do it."

Adam sighed. "Mother, don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous," she said. "I'm much more ruthless than your father. And I absolutely refuse to see you hurt again."

"She is." Randor's eyes still hadn't opened, but he was clearly awake. "More ruthless, I mean."

Marlena leaned closer to her son. "I will not allow anyone to hurt you again, Adam."

"You may not be able to stop it."

"Then I'll die trying," she said.

Adam looked pained. "It would be better for everyone if I was just out of the way. I'm dangerous to have around. I put everyone else in danger, just by being who and what I am."

Very gently, she took his left hand in hers and, holding both his hands, spoke calmly and confidently. "If you kill yourself, Adam, I will follow right behind you."

His eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that if I can't be with you in this world, then I will follow you to the next."

"That's silly!" Adam exclaimed. "You wouldn't die just because I did."

"I would kill myself," she said calmly.

"No!" Adam stared at her. "No, you couldn't do that! You couldn't leave Dad alone."

"I'd probably waste away to nothing," Randor said, shifting so that he was sitting up against the wall at the head of the bed. "I wouldn't want to go on without you, Adam. You're my whole reason for being. And if your mother was gone, too, well . . . I might as well do myself in."

"Well, I think that's quite enough talk of suicide for one day," Dorgan said, walking into the room. "I swore to you, Adam, that I would not stop working until you were better, and I mean to keep that promise, do you hear me?" He stood and the foot of the bed, his balled fists on his hips. "Frankly, if you attempt suicide one more time, I will take it as a personal insult to my work!" Marlena bit her lip at Adam's astonished expression. "Do you understand me?" Her son nodded wordlessly, and Dorgan gave a sharp nod and walked up to the head of the bed. "If you don't mind, Marlena?"

She moved aside so that the healer could get a good look at Adam. He checked Adam's vital signs, removed the intravenous tube, then unwound the bandage on his left arm.

Marlena had stood up. Now she sank into the chair, staring at the long cut in her son's arm. _He really was determined, wasn't he?_ she thought. _No hesitation wounds, even._

Dorgan gently cleaned the skin around the cut, then rebandaged it. "Now, when you take your bath, Adam, you can't immerse this arm. You'll have to hold it clear of the tub."

Adam nodded listlessly.

The healer stood up and squeezed her son's shoulder. "Death doesn't solve anything, son. Take it from someone who's seen it an awful lot." Adam looked up at him, eyes troubled. Dorgan turned to her. "Marlena, can I talk with you in the other room?"

She nodded and rose, glancing at her husband and son as she went. Dorgan shut the door behind them and then looked in a vaguely upward direction. "Sorceress? Can you hear me?" She must have replied in the affirmative, because he nodded. For a few moments, he just stood there, apparently having a silent conversation with their hostess. Then he looked back at Marlena. "I asked her to partake in the discussion and relay what we've got to say to Randor so that everyone involved can have a say."

"What is it, Dorgan?"

"Adam needs to have more company, more friends come to see him. I know this is a sacred place, and not to be defiled and all, but, not to put too fine a point on it, the boy needs to see people he cares about to give him a reason for living. Right now all he can think about is the wretched things that have happened. We need to remind him that his life has happiness in it as well."

"_Randor says that he doesn't want to impose,"_ the Sorceress said. _"It would not be an imposition. Adam's health must come first. And this place isn't sacred, really, it simply holds too much danger for the unwary and unitiated to be open to casual exploration."_

"I appreciate your help, but how long are we going to keep Adam here?" Marlena asked. "I thought the goal was to protect him so he could be sent home."

"Frankly," Dorgan said, "while there's still a chance of suicide, I'd rather stay here. It's a much more easily controlled environment. Back at the palace, we have our lives spread out everywhere, which makes it difficult to remember or even notice possible hazards."

"_I agree,"_ the Sorceress said. _"By the way, the windows are no longer passable to human bodies."_

"That's a relief," Marlena replied. "And we won't be leaving him alone, henceforward. I hope you don't mind my decision to stay."

"_Of course not,"_ the Sorceress said. _"I know how I'd feel if a child of mine was suicidal. I will do everything in my power to help."_

"Thank you," Marlena said.

"_Man-at-Arms is asking for admittance at this very moment. He has Teela with him. They should be with you in a few moments."_

The door opened and Randor stuck his head out. "Dorgan, Adam wants to be away from the needles. Is it all right if I move him?"

"Of course," the healer said. Randor disappeared. A moment later they could hear a voice from within the bedchamber.

"I can walk!" Adam sounded very irritable and grumpy, but his father didn't heed his complaint. He came out carrying his son gently in his arms. Adam's left hand lay in his lap, and Marlena could see that Randor was walking very carefully so as not to jar him. They had gotten him cleaned up in the night after he fell asleep, and the bloody clothes had vanished a short while later.

Dorgan had gone to clean up the blood in the bathing chamber, but came back to report that it had already been dealt with, no doubt by the Sorceress. Marlena was just as glad that she hadn't had to deal with it herself.

Randor set Adam down on the sofa and sat beside him. For a moment, it looked like their son was going to try and stay aloof from his father, but after a brief moment of apparent vacillation, he leaned against Randor, resting his left arm on his lap. Randor put his hand on Adam's head. "I love you, Adam, and I'm neither leaving nor letting you go."

Adam sighed glumly. Marlena restrained herself from going on her knees in front of him and shaking some sense into him. _Live, damn you!_ It wouldn't help. Instead she walked over and sat down next to him.

A few moments later, the door opened, admitting Duncan and Teela. Adam stiffened, and she could tell he was going to try to flee. Randor put his arm firmly around his shoulders and whispered something softly.

Teela dropped the pack she was carrying and ran across the room, falling to her knees in front of Adam. She threw her arms around him and began to sob, wailing, "You idiot!"

All four of the adults in the room stared at her in astonishment. "How could you do something like that? Don't you know I'd miss you? Don't you know . . ." Her words dissolved into a meaningless babble for a few moments as tears poured down her face.

Adam looked frankly stunned and no little alarmed. "Teela?" he said. "Teela, don't cry."

Teela drew back and stared at him. "I am _not_ crying!" she growled, tears running down her face.

He reached out and brushed her cheek. "Then what's this on your face?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she exclaimed. "I'm not crying. I'm angry! At you!"

His eyes widened, and he took on a stricken look. "You're angry at me?" he asked in a very small voice.

Teela's expression softened, and her tears, if anything, increased. She threw herself on him, and he gingerly put his arms around her. "You can't die! You can't! I love you! How could I go on without you?"

"You love me?" he asked, his voice squeaking, and Marlena could see real fear in his eyes.

Sniffling on his shoulder, she said, "Of course, I do, you're my friend."

Adam's whole posture relaxed, and he patted her hair timidly. Then he looked up at his father with an expression of suppressed adolescent panic. The look of a young man who has a crying girl in his arms and doesn't know what to do with her. She watched Randor consider his options and decide to leave his son to his own devices. She approved wholeheartedly. Teela was proving an enormous distraction, and that was exactly what Adam needed right now.

* * *

Daviona glowered at herself in the mirror. As much as she wanted to blame Randor, she knew that this setback was all her own doing. Right when she'd started plotting how to retrieve Adam, she'd thought that she needed to be subtle, and she'd been anything but.

Now she was considerably reduced in both power and circumstances. It was going to take some time to rebuild, but after her bitter failure, she was going to take the time she needed.

Jeclarren and Sanviro were providing her with a tidy amount of energy. Assimilation would have to wait. They were already taking care of each other, which was a start at any rate. The full scale effort to bring them into her service would take more energy than she had to spare right now, and they provided roughly the same power whether they'd been bound to her or not. She had supplies here, stored in stasis, and it would be wiser not to reach out past her little enclave for the moment. The magus would likely still be looking for her.

Absently, she wondered why the magus hadn't attached the boy to herself. Shaking her head, she chuckled malevolently. When she had the prince, it wouldn't matter. She would be able to take on the magus and defeat her with no trouble at all.

* * *

Jeclarren sat up sharply when he heard the rattling of the door. "One of you come here."

He stood, resting a hand on Sanviro's shoulder for a moment, then crossing to the door. The younger man had hunched unhappily upon waking, and Jeclarren hoped he'd offered him some comfort. It was odd, this worrying about someone else, but it gave him something to think about.

She held up two objects that looked like meat pies and handed them to him through the bars, followed by two brown glass bottles.

Jeclarren took them, but as she turned away, he said, "Wait!" She turned slowly back, lifting one eyebrow inquiringly. In that short time he considered and rejected two versions of his request, finally settling on, "Would you please tell me your name?"

She smiled, her eyes alight with a hint of mockery. "My name is Daviona." She started to go again, but he had so much more to ask.

"Please!" he said, and she paused, the mockery in her eyes more blatant now. "What use do you intend to make of us?"

"I thought that was fairly evident," she said, gazing at him salaciously.

"Beyond that," he asked. "I don't believe you just want your own private bordello. What purpose do you intend to use us for?"

She stared at him for a long moment, then she said, "Eat your breakfast, sweet thing." Her smile turned wicked as he grit his teeth. "Build your strength. I'll be coming for you again later." She left then, and he didn't try to call her back.

He went back to the pair of cots and sat down opposite Sanviro, holding out one of the meat pies and a bottle. The other captive took them, and they ate in silence. The bottle contained cider and not ale, a fact that both relieved and disappointed him. Alcohol might make the days go faster, but he wanted to be alert to any opportunities.

The food was gone all too soon. Not that it wasn't enough, but it was the only thing to do. The day stretched out before them with only the sure knowledge that Daviona would come for them.

Jeclarren scratched absently. He wasn't sure if it was the clothes she had given him or some other factor, but he seemed to itch all the time lately. _Come to think of it, the itching started before she gave me the clothes._ He shrugged and turned, leaning back against the wall, legs stretched out on the cot in front of him. "It's too bad we don't have any cards or dice," he said, resting his head against the wall.

Sanviro sighed. "True. Not that I have much energy. I feel almost as tired now as when I went to sleep."

Yawning, Jeclarren said, "Me too. Beats me how she stays so energetic. She's doing everything, but we're exhausted and she's practically bouncy."

"There are tales of creatures who suck men dry of their life force, causing them to age prematurely," Sanviro said.

Jeclarren sat forward and stared at him. "Really?" Then he shook his head and shrugged. "But that's not like what's happening here."

"You don't think so?" Sanviro asked. "But it has the right signs. We are weary and drained when she has done with us, and she is made strong."

Leaning back again, Jeclarren said, "You don't look a day older, Sanviro. I mean, how long is this draining supposed to take?"

"Well, in the stories it only takes a few days," the boy replied, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "And the aging process starts immediately."

"There you have it, then, we'd both be dead or very elderly, with as much time as she's spent with each of us." He glanced toward the door. "Besides, she's human, even if she is a witch."

"She told me she's been doing this for more than four hundred and fifty years, so she can't be a normal human," Sanviro exclaimed.

Jeclarren nodded. "She told me the same thing," he said, grimacing. "But she wasn't necessarily telling the truth."

"What purpose would lying serve?"

"Intimidation." He thumped his head against the wall. "And if she can hear us she's going to be furious."

Sanviro gulped and Jeclarren got up and went to the door. "Hey!" he called. "Daviona!" There was no immediate response, and he found himself getting irritated. He started calling her name loudly and repeatedly until she came into the room beyond the door.

Her eyes were flashing angrily. "What do you mean by making all this racket?" she demanded.

"We have nothing to do in here. It's going to drive us crazier than you!"

Narrowing her eyes, she glared at him, then heaved a sigh. "You do make a good point, however," she said. Then she pointed at him through the window and he felt a spell take control of him. She shifted her attention to the door, and he could hear the lock opening and the bar sliding off its supports. The door opened and she said, "Come with me, Jeclarren."

_Well, I can't say I didn't ask for this,_ he thought as his body obeyed her command. She led him a different route than he expected, though, and he began to grow nervous as she took him down a wide corridor that led away from her bedchamber. _Where is she taking me?_

There were several doors leading off this corridor, but she only opened the third one on the right. He followed her into a room that contained an astonishing array of objects. Several tables of various sizes stood around the room, and comfortable chairs lined the walls. There were books and board games and the materials for a number of various tasks. Leather working tools, sewing baskets, all looking as if they had been left the day before. She had him pick up a small table and carry it back to their room, then a pair of chairs to go with it. He ferried games and books and cushions to their prison, all the while wondering what the arrangement was for. _Did she put it all together?_ he wondered. _Or is this left over from some past time, and she just found it?_

Finally, he was done. She closed the door behind him, released the control spell on him and the paralysis on Sanviro. "I have been most remiss in my duties to you, my boys," she said in a serious voice. "I will be more attentive to them henceforward." Jeclarren just stared at her. "You will be spending the rest of very long lives with me, and I have started things off badly." She smiled. "And do not worry, you will not be just two for very much longer."

With that, she turned away, leaving Jeclarren wondering precisely what that meant. Was she going to snatch some other poor unsuspecting sod? Or did this have something to do with her comment about getting back what was hers?

Sanviro had a different question. "What does she mean, 'very long lives'?" With no answer for him, Jeclarren just shook his head.

* * *

Adam held Teela close as she wept on him, and no one came to his rescue. His father just sat beside him with an odd look on his face, and Duncan stood by the door looking utterly poleaxed. Then she shifted and part of her armor hit the stitched cut on his arm. He'd had enough pain killers to keep it largely quiescent, but struck directly like that, it woke with a vengeance.

He gasped, bringing his arm stiffly to his side. Teela drew back looking worried. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he grunted.

"I hurt you, didn't I?" she said.

"No more than I hurt myself," he muttered.

Her eyes snapped. "Promise me you won't do anything like that again," she demanded.

He looked at her in weary resignation. "Teela . . ."

"Promise me!"

"I don't want to talk about this," he said. "Why don't we –"

She leaned forward and put her hand on his cheek, gazing deeply into his eyes. "Adam, promise me, please."

He tore his eyes away from hers and met the worried gaze of his father. Dropping his eyes, he looked down at his hands. "I –"

"If you won't promise, it means you want to do it again," she said, grabbing his chin with her hand. "Adam, please!" she begged. Her forehead was wrinkled; she looked woebegone and weepy, neither of which was a state he was used to seeing Teela in. "Please promise me you won't try to kill yourself." Her voice broke on the word kill, and he winced.

He bit his lip. "I . . . I promise," he said in a very quiet voice. To his surprise, her tears began to flow again, but they were silent now. He shifted so that she could sit next to him, and wound up with his back against his father's side with Teela draped on his chest, crying into his shoulder.

He sat uneasily, not certain what to do next. His mother had risen and gone across to speak quietly with Duncan and Dorgan, and his father was sitting unobtrusively behind him, almost as if he were pretending to be part of the furniture. After awhile, when it became obvious that all of the others were ignoring them so as to avoid embarrassing them, he tugged lightly on Teela's hair.

Her head came up with a mixture of outrage and shock, but she stopped whatever she'd been about to say when she saw the look on his face. He glanced sideways first at his father and then at the others talking a few feet away. She blushed scarlet and pulled away slightly, but she kept an arm around him. He found he didn't object.

He cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to them. When he had it, he wasn't sure he actually wanted it, but he shifted a bit again so that he could look at his father as well as his mother, the healer and Duncan. The three of them sat down, Duncan pulling one of the chairs from beside the window up to join them. "I would guess that you didn't find her," he said, surprised by how steady his voice sounded.

Duncan's eyes fell, and he looked extremely unhappy. "We were too late, Adam. She got away with both her captives before we found her."

"We were so close!" Teela exclaimed. "If I'd gotten that stupid vision just a little earlier, we would have found her."

Adam blinked and looked sidelong at Teela. "Vision?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. From the looks on his mother's and Dorgan's faces, this was coming as a surprise to them as well. His father seemed less surprised, but he might just be hiding it better.

Unaccountably, Teela looked embarrassed. "I have the Sight," she said, looking down at her lap. Adam opened his mouth but found he had nothing to say. "It started, I think, the first time Daviona drained you when you were in the infirmary. I had nightmares and then I went down to the infirmary and you seemed perfectly fine." Adam's mother nodded, and he realized that she must remember that incident. He didn't, he just remembered waking the next day, cold as ice.

"So what happened last night?" Duncan asked. "You never told me anything, you simply told us you knew where to go."

Teela shrugged. "I was asleep, and I had a dream. I saw . . . her . . . sitting on the floor in one of the rooms in that place. She was glowing, and I could see something, like a tendril of incandescent energy, snaking out from her, and I knew, the way you know things in dreams, that it was heading toward Adam. Then it was like I was raised up, out of the room, through the earth, and I saw the spot, but I just kept rising till I could see it almost like I was in a windraider, and I could plot it on a map." Teela's eyes were distant, yet she seemed to be looking inside herself in an odd way. "Then I woke up with an incredible sense of urgency."

"You probably couldn't have Seen it before you did," Duncan said. "You undoubtedly Saw it at the same time as it was happening."

Teela shrugged. "I just wish we'd gotten there five minutes sooner."

"What happened to Orko?" Adam asked. "He . . ." He paused, realizing that he had no idea where the jester was. The last time he'd seen Orko, he'd been unconscious. Anxiously, he leaned toward his father. "Is he okay?"

"_He is fine, Prince Adam,"_ the Sorceress said, and he looked up, startled by her suddenly taking part in the conversation. _"He and I are working together to seek out Daviona's new hiding place."_

"Any luck?" he asked, and the others looked at him peculiarly. "Oh, sorry, the Sorceress just told me that Orko's fine."

"_I'm afraid not, so far, but we will keep working on it for awhile longer."_ With that she was gone and he passed her words on to the others.

There was a silence when he had finished, as if no one knew what to say. Adam thought about those two men . . . boys . . . the two captives she still had, Sanviro and Jeclarren, and he felt himself start to shake. They were trapped with a woman who cared for nothing beyond her own comfort, her own next needs and desires, and they had no way out. He knew all too well what they were going through, and, counting the days, he realized that they had been with her longer than he had.

"Has she remade her drugs? Or did she have some stored at this other facility?"

"We found lab equipment, and a potion in progress," Duncan said. "I haven't had a chance to get Orko to look at the thing, so we're not entirely sure what it was."

"How did Orko get hurt in the first place?" Adam asked.

"He meddled," Teela said grouchily.

"Not exactly," her father said reprovingly. "Daviona used a magical portal to escape, and evidently that can leave clues as to the destination. Orko knew that, but so did Daviona, and she left a trap that knocked Orko out and scrambled the remnants of the spell."

"But if someone like the Sorceress had –" Teela started, but her father shook his head.

"According to the Sorceress, once the trap spell was laid, it was already too late."

Teela deflated, looking, of all things, scared. That worried him. He hadn't seen Teela look scared since they were little, and he'd gotten to thinking that she never got scared anymore.

"What's wrong, Teela?" he asked softly.

She shook her head and looked down at her hands again. He noticed that she didn't have her staff hanging from her belt as usual, she had one of her father's maces, and he wondered why.

Before he could ask, Duncan said, "So we're back to square one, I'm afraid. I've no more idea than a blind dog where to start looking for her now."

Sighing deeply, Teela grimaced. "And the only times this Sight of mine has been active is when Adam's been in direct danger," she said. "So if she's got any brains at all, she'll just stop attacking him until she's better prepared."

Without thinking, without doing anything but reacting, Adam found himself curled into a ball against his father's side. His knees were pulled up to his chest, his arms clutched around them, and he leaned against the king with his face hidden in his arms. His left arm ached with the way he was stretching the muscles against his legs, but he didn't have any ability to move out of the position. His father wrapped his arms around him, holding him close.

Teela started babbling apologies, but she stopped after a few moments. Adam was terribly focused on not freaking out, not panicking any further than he already had. He knew he had to look a right fool, trying to crawl onto his father's lap, but . .. . why couldn't they see? This wasn't going to stop. He was afraid that even after Daviona was gone, if they managed to catch her, he would still turn into a ball of quivering terror at the mere mention of her name. What good could he do anyone in that state?

Gradually, he forced himself to calm down while his father murmured words of reassurance. He unwound slowly, cradling his aching arm to his chest, still leaning against his father.

When he looked up, he saw that Duncan, Teela and Dorgan were gone, and his mother was over by the window. He dropped his gaze to a random point on the floor where it met the wall and tried not to think too hard. "Adam?" his father said softly. "Are you –"

"No, I'm not all right," Adam growled. "I'm not going to be all right. I'm a jittery fool who can't keep himself together for ten minutes at a time."

"You're not a fool, Adam," his father said firmly and Adam closed his eyes. "You're not!" he repeated when that was the boy's only response. "You have been tortured, son. That leaves lasting marks. And you've been tortured in a way that comes very close to the core of you. It would be startling if you weren't jittery."

"I want to stop feeling this way!" Adam moaned wretchedly. "I want . . ." He shook his head and hunched himself down.

"You will, Adam, but it takes time," his mother said, coming up to sit beside them. She took his hand in hers. "Physical healing takes time, we all know that, but it's difficult to acknowledge and accept that emotional healing does, too."

"It's the truth," his father said, squeezing his shoulders. "I've known both men and women who were tortured during the wars, and it takes time to get past what that does to you."

Adam took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to let their words sink in past the self-doubts and misery he had filling his spirit. "I think the worst of it was that she paid so little attention to me." He shook his head, knowing how stupid that sounded. She'd done nothing but . . . He shook his head again, more firmly. "What I mean is, I wasn't a person to her. First I was a tool to get back at you," his father grimaced and nodded, "then I was a prized possession, but I was never Adam. All the horrible things she did, all the things she made me do and feel, it was all so intimate, yet impersonal." He shuddered. "And I don't genuinely think she was trying to cause me pain or unhappiness, most of the time. She just didn't see anything past what she wanted." He was caught in the stream of thought now, and he could stop. "That's part of what made it so horrible. She was hurting me, raping me, and she genuinely didn't care that it bothered me, plainly didn't pay attention. When she had utterly exhausted me, she left without a backward glance." He shook his head. "The only time she seemed to be interested in how I felt was when she branded me."

"What do you mean?" his mother asked.

Adam felt a sick nausea churning in his gut at the recollection. "Those drugs, they make the skin very sensitive. The least little touch is . . . well the skin is extraordinarily sensitive." They nodded. "She got me on one of them, the blue, I think, and then she branded me. It was . . . agonizing." He clenched his fists, biting his lip. Cringer butted against his knee and he tried to smile down at the tiger. Relaxing his hands, he reached out and scratched Cringer's head. "_Then_ she told Trevor to give me a local anesthetic."

His mother let out a muffled curse and his father's arm tightened around him then. "Why did she bother?" Randor wondered aloud.

"Well, she wanted sex," Adam said. "Other than that, I don't have any idea."

Both his parents hugged him then, and he felt very warm and loved. But there was still a deeply hidden part of him that wanted nothing more than surcease . . . from sorrow, from pain, from constant fear . . . from life.

* * *

Randor was worried. Marlena had started talking to Adam, telling him stories about what was going on at court currently. Their son listened to her somewhat apathetically, occasionally nodding or posing a question that he didn't really seem very interested in. Adam still leaned against him, seeming to draw strength from his presence, but it clearly wasn't enough.

The king was very much relieved by the promise that Teela had dragged out of Adam, but how long would he remember such a promise if he took another dive into black despair that saw no way out of his misery but death?

That despair still hovered about him, almost a tangible thing. Duncan had taken Teela away, saying that he needed to consult the Sorceress about her Sight, but they would be back, and he knew that Duncan would see what he did. He wanted to talk to his friend, to get his advice on how to handle Adam now that he was in this precarious state, but it was difficult. Leaving Adam for even a few minutes didn't seem practical. Marlena wouldn't be able to knock him down and sit on him, and Dorgan was getting old. Adam wouldn't willingly hurt either of them, but in a panic . . . he might not know what he was doing.

Of course, if he left him with Marlena, Dorgan _and_ Teela, that would surely be enough. It was clear, though, that he didn't dare talk frankly within the suite, since it was his own words that had sent Adam off to cut his wrists. Misinterpreted, surely, but nevertheless, that had clearly hit Adam at an extremely vulnerable point, and the boy had managed to sneak past both him and Duncan. He really didn't know what to do.

Duncan, though, Duncan had been the prince's confidant for the last year and more. Randor knew that his friend knew Adam better than he did. Perhaps Duncan would have a suggestion that would help him to anchor Adam in the world, that would help him find Adam something to live for.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Duncan led Teela though the halls, but just as they were approaching the Sorceress' throne room, Teela stopped abruptly. "Do we have to do this now?" she asked. "Surely we should be with Adam."

"Adam has his parents with him, and he needs some time to recover himself," Duncan said, squeezing her shoulders.

She turned back towards the route they had taken, back towards the suite. "But I hate leaving him like that, especially when I –"

"It's not your fault, Teela," he said gently. "Now, we have to see the Sorceress, and you know that if you think about it." She looked down, not answering. "There's something we really need to address, and the Sorceress is the only one I can think of with the right knowledge."

She blanched a little. "You mean . . . when I got angry down in that room?" He nodded. "I don't – I don't undesrtand. What happened to me? How did I blow that table up?"

"You have power within you, and the ability to use it, young Teela," said the Sorceress from the doorway into the throne room. She held out her hand, and when Teela crossed to her, she put her arm around the girl's shoulders. As he followed them into the throne room, he reflected that this was, indeed, a sight he didn't want the queen to see. Randor might not notice, but Marlena was all too perceptive. And Dorgan . . . well, that hardly bore thinking about.

The Sorceress led Teela to the stairs, but stopped there. She sat down with Teela on the lowest steps and he was struck anew by how much they looked like one another. _Whoever her father was, he didn't contribute much to her looks,_ he reflected dryly.

"I don't want to be a sorcerer," his daughter said.

"The power has awakened, Teela," the Sorceress replied. "Once that happens, it cannot be put back to sleep."

"But I don't want it."

"I know, child." The Sorceress sighed. "But we do not always get what we want, and we do not always want what we get."

Teela looked down at the toes of her boots, and Duncan noticed abruptly that she wasn't wearing the staff that had been almost like an extension of her arm for the past months, ever since Skeletor's first attack. Instead, she carried a mace. She had training with all the weapons they had available, and she was good with most of them, but it was odd, this sudden change.

"What do I have to do?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper. "I incinerated a table with a thought. Father has the men mostly convinced that it's a new attribute of my staff, but I don't think that will last if I do it anymore."

"For now, I can give you a reprieve, put the power in abeyance, but it will not last more than a year. Then you will have to get training and learn properly how to control and use this ability."

"You can?" Teela asked hopefully.

The Sorceress nodded. "I can. But it is only a temporary solution. I hope that it will give you time to get used to the idea, and time for your father to find you a suitable teacher."

"But – I thought you –" Teela looked both perplexed and shattered. Duncan wondered how much connection she felt to the Sorceress – if there was a bond that they could both feel.

The Sorceress smiled. "I am a terrible teacher, Teela, I have no patience at all, and I'm afraid my duties as the guardian of Grayskull take up a great deal of time."

Duncan nodded. "We'll find you someone who has better teaching skills." He looked around. "Where is Orko?"

"I sent him back to look around Daviona's little hideout – with the proviso that he come back and tell me what he finds before he takes action."

"I see," Duncan said. "Well, perhaps I had better –"

"Stay here, for Adam's sake," Teela said firmly, glaring up at him. "He needs to know we weren't frightened off or disgusted by his reaction." She grimaced. "I can't believe I said that. It almost sounded like I wanted her to 'use her brain.'"

"No, it didn't," he said, shaking his head at the way adolescents turned everything into enormous drama. "Adam is just very sensitive right now. He overreacted. It will pass."

"What happened?" the Sorceress asked.

"Oh, I just said something stupid and Adam got all bunchy," Teela said, encapsulating the event remarkably well, though . . .

"You didn't say anything stupid. What you said was perceptive and logical. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself," Duncan said.

Teela shrugged uncomfortably, and he turned his attention to her mother. "When does the training need to start?"

"No later than six months from now, preferably sooner. It would be better if we can get some of the disciplines well established before the power is loosed again."

"But, I thought –" Teela looked back and forth between them. "How can you study magic if you don't have access to the power?"

"There is more to magic than power, Teela," the Sorceress said. "If I know your father, he has been teaching you meditation skills, which is all to the good. Magic takes great concentration and focus, which must be developed before the power can be safely wielded."

"I see. What do you have to do to put my . . . my power . . . to sleep?"

"It is very simple, and takes next to nothing from you. Only that you allow yourself to be guided by me into a light trance state."

Duncan stepped back and watched the Sorceress work with her daughter. Truth was, she was a terrible teacher, but he would give his left arm for Teela to be able to know her mother as such, and to see them together like this more often. At the rate things were going, he feared that the Sorceress would never permit him to tell Teela who her mother really was until her mother was dead. At that point, it was unlikely that Teela would forgive either of them for concealing the truth.

Lost in these dark thoughts, he stood still in a relaxed stance that all soldiers learned to achieve over time, waiting for the spell to be done. While he stood there, Orko came flittering into the room and up to his side. "Oh," he said in a knowing voice. "She's putting the power to rest for awhile, huh?"

"You know?" Duncan asked, turning to the jester. "How long have you known?"

"That she had power, since I met her," Orko said. "But it wasn't any of my business. I was going to ask you what you were going to do about it soon, though. She doesn't have much control."

"What did you find?" he asked, changing the subject. Having Orko lecture him about his daughter's magical abilities was an experience he would readily forego.

"At Daviona's?" Orko asked rhetorically. "I didn't see any other traps, but she was making some of that conditioning stuff, the yellow drug. That's what the stuff on the counter in her lab was."

"Could it be a second batch? I mean, could she have made more before this?"

"I don't think so," Orko said thoughtfully. "There's still a day or two before this one will be ready, and it would have taken almost a week before this to get to that point. I'd say this is her first batch." Orko threw his chest out and put his hands on his hips, looking pleased. "I'll bet she's just furious that she had to leave it behind." Then he deflated. "But there's evidence that she's made others of the drugs already, probably things that took a lot less time. It's hard to be absolutely certain, but I think she has most of the other things she used on Adam already again."

Duncan closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, trying to sooth away the dismay this thought brought to him. _There's nothing you can do for those two boys except find Daviona._ He looked up at Orko. "I take it that you and the Sorceress had no luck in locating her."

"None at all," Orko said unhappily. "And if she's smart, she'll stop doing magical stuff so we can't follow her signature." He swayed back and forth in distress. "If she's really smart, she'll never come after Adam again, but the kind of power he represents is addictive and enough to make any mage stupid."

"Addictive?" Duncan repeated, appalled, then he recalled that no one had yet told Orko that Adam was a well. Unless the Sorceress had. He raised an eyebrow. "How did you know Adam was a well?"

Orko shrugged. "It's obvious." He must have seen the expression on Duncan's face, for he rushed into an explanation. "For one thing, he couldn't survive the power Grayskull shoots through him if he wasn't a well." Duncan made a gesture towards Teela, and Orko's eyes widened. Then he heaved a sigh when the girl didn't move. "She's busy," he said.

"Yes, well, be careful."

When he didn't say anything more, Orko heaved another sigh of relief and went on. "Anyway, I saw it almost immediately when I first met him."

"And you never said anything?" Duncan demanded incredulously.

The Trollan shrugged. "I thought you knew. And then when – well, after his sixteenth birthday, I was even more sure that _you _had to know, even if no one else did."

"I see." Duncan took a couple of deep breaths and reminded himself that Orko had no reason to think otherwise. "What's this about it being addictive?"

Orko twisted his hands together. "Once a wizard has experienced power of that . . . um . . . magnitude?" Duncan nodded. "Of that magnitude, it's almost impossible to be satisfied with less, unless you're a saint. And we know that Daviona's not a saint."

"Hardly," Duncan agreed. "Were you never tempted?"

Orko shook his head. "I have trouble controlling the power I already have," he said sadly. "That much energy would turn me into a fountain of . . . Trollan tapioca."

He was amazed by the startling depths this situation were bringing out of Orko. Duncan patted him on the shoulder. "You're a good fellow, Orko."

Orko commenced twisting the hem of his tunic in pleased embarrassment. "Besides, there are only a few spells that do anybody any good that require that much power."

"True," the Sorceress said, rising and helping Teela to her feet. His daughter walked over to him and put an arm around his waist, looking slightly dazed. "The rest are selfish indulgence or pure evil. What are you discussing?"

"Man-at-Arms wanted to know how long I've known Adam was a well, and I told him that the power is addictive."

Duncan was surprised to see the Sorceress' eyes widen. "I hadn't considered that aspect. No wonder she's been so foolishly rash. She's desperate to gain access to that power source again."

"Adam isn't just a power source!" Teela exclaimed angrily. "He's – he's –"

"No one here thinks that, Teela," the Sorceress said gently. "He is, however, viewed that way by others, and we must acknowledge that in order to protect him properly."

Teela's hostility subsided, and she said, "I want to help him, but every time I try, I seem to mess up somehow."

Duncan gave her a little squeeze. "I doubt that any of the rest of us could have gotten him to make that promise, dearheart."

Teela's eyes widened and she turned a little pink. "Father," she muttered, "not in front of . . ." She bit her lip, but her eyes darted betrayingly toward the Sorceress.

If their hostess felt any pangs at being so excluded, she showed no signs of it. "I must return to the search, so if you will all excuse me."

"Of course, Sorceress," Duncan said, nodding.

"Can I help any more?" Orko asked.

"At this point, I think you would better serve our cause at the palace, continuing to search for ways to rid Adam of that conditioning agent."

"Right!" Orko said brightly. He turned and flitted out of the room.

Duncan took Teela back to the suite. It was getting a little crowded in there, he reflected. Were all three of them going to share the bed, or would Marlena sleep elsewhere? He could not, at this point, imagine Randor willingly leaving Adam for any length of time.

They knocked and Marlena opened the door.

When they entered, Duncan saw that Adam was still sitting on the sofa next to Randor, leaning up against his father. Teela walked forward instantly and, after pausing irresolutely, she sat down in one of the chairs, very close to the edge of the seat. Marlena walked back to sit next to her son, and Duncan stood behind Teela's chair.

Randor squeezed Adam's shoulders, and then he looked down at his son. "I'd like to have a quick talk with Duncan, Adam. Do you mind?"

"Of course not, Father," Adam said. As his father rose and headed toward the door to the outer hallway, gesturing with his head that Duncan should follow him, Adam leaned forward and said, "You're not going far, right?"

"No, just outside the room." Adam sat back, reassured, though before they'd even gotten out of the room, Teela had taken Randor's place on the couch.

When the door was shut, his friend turned to him and said, "Duncan, you know Adam a lot better than I do, these days."

Duncan felt his eyes widen, and he nodded.

"How do I pull him back from the edge? He's teetering and I don't know how to help."

It cost Randor a lot to say this, to ask this, Duncan could see that in his eyes. "I really think it's mostly things that you can come up with yourself. Mention and keep mentioning the positive things in his life, and in his future."

"We, the four of us, Marlena, Dorgan, the Sorceress and I, have discussed it, and we have decided that Adam needs visitors."

Duncan raised his eyebrows. "Vistors? Here? The Sorceress agreed?"

Randor nodded. "Both she and Dorgan think that Adam needs to stay here because it's easier to keep him away from tools he can use to kill himself."

Duncan felt weak suddenly and wanted to sit down, but there were no seats in the hall. He'd never have thought he'd hear Randor talking about the need to keep Adam away from the means to commit suicide. "Yes, I can see that," he said weakly. "This is all . . . I don't know what . . ."

His friend and king leaned against the wall and said, "I know. I'm feeling more than a little out of my depth, too. I've simply got to find some way to convince Adam that life is worth living."

"Well, his friends coming to see him will undoubtedly help." He took off his helmet and leaned against the opposite wall. "I told the masters and Jenkins what happened."

"Good, good. Then they'll be prepared when they come." Randor tilted his head curiously. "Not that I object, but why Jenkins?"

"It was either that or kill him," Duncan said, glowering down at the top of his helmet. He buffed an imaginary speck off its surface so he wouldn't have to look up. "He was objecting to the amount of time you were spending here, and I got very angry. He'll probably complain about my intimidation tactics when you return to the palace."

"I take it he changed his tune after you told him?"

Duncan nodded. "He was appalled and shaken, but part of that may be because I was so angry. I'm on a hair trigger where Adam's concerned right now."

"I think we all are," Randor replied, running his hand through his hair. Duncan noticed abruptly that he wasn't wearing the crown. It had been years since he'd seen Randor this much without it. "I want to take Daviona and strangle her. Then I want to find Skeletor and take him apart slowly."

"Sounds like a plan."

Randor chuckled. "Except that it would mean leaving Adam, and I'm not about to do that."

"He does need you, Randor. Anyone could see that."

"I'm afraid he's going to be embarrassed by that when people come to visit. I'm not sure what we can do about it, though. Even if they're warned to take no notice, it's bound to cause him distress."

Sighing, Duncan shrugged. "I don't know, either. Oh, by the way, Orko has identified the potion that Daviona was brewing. It's probably the only good news we've got."

"What?"

"She was making the conditioning agent, but evidently it takes more than a week to brew, and she was forced to leave it behind. So, we can reasonably hope that she doesn't have any of it to use on Sanviro and Jeclarren."

"That is good news." Randor's shoulders slumped. "Those poor boys. I feel incredibly guilty that we didn't get them out of there."

"_You_ feel guilty?" Duncan grimaced. "We were minutes away. Minutes!"

Randor pushed away from the wall and put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "You did what you could, Duncan. No one could do better, I know that."

Duncan smiled at the king. "Adam will be missing you, I would imagine. We'd better go back in. I don't know that I've helped you much."

Randor shrugged. "I don't know – is it unworthy of me to be glad that you feel as lost as I do?"

Duncan put his arm around his oldest friend's shoulders. "Actually, I think it just proves you're human."

* * *

As they sat on chairs at the table and played cards, with something to talk about beyond sex and the possibilty of escape, Jeclarren found himself being grateful to Daviona. He stood up sharply from the table and went over to the small privy that was attached to the room and leaned against the wall, reminding himself firmly that they would neither of them be in this situation if not for her. That she was abusing them. That she was an evil madwoman.

After a few moments, Sanviro came over. "Are you all right, Jeclarren? Are you sick?"

"No, I'm just . . . just upset." He turned and shrugged. "It's nothing important."

"I'm glad to hear it, sweet thing," said a voice from the doorway. Jeclarren looked to the window in their door and saw Daviona standing there. "It's time for play."

All thought of gratitude fled his mind at the sight of her. _But how long will it take before that doesn't matter so much? How long will it be before you're so desperate –_ He cut that thought off before it could go anywhere. Unwillingly, he walked over to the door.

She smiled at him with a possessive look in her eyes that made him want to turn and run, but as he got within four feet of the door, he suddenly couldn't move. She opened the door and walked in to bind his wrists tightly, once again leashing him with a rope around the bindings. When she tugged at this leash, he discovered that he could move again. He followed her through the cavern, looking around him as he went. This place seemed to have been carved from solid rock. He saw no seams or holes, no way to get out.

"I designed this as a hiding place, sweet thing," she said, evidently noticing his curiosity. "It has no physical exit or entrance. It can only be entered by way of a magical portal."

"So you're the only one who can leave."

"You catch on quickly," she replied, leading him back into the room with the chair. "Sit down."

"What if I refuse?"

She turned and looked him in the eye, irritation writ large in her expression. "Jeclarren, you are being very difficult."

His mouth went dry as she glared at him. "I . . . um . . . that's not my intention," he said. He felt like a coward, but it wasn't going to do him any good to get hurt or killed or whatever she had in mind. Her eyes softened slightly. "It was just a question."

"I don't encourage questions, sweet thing," she said softly. "Sit down."

He did as he was told and sat down. She merely injected him with something blue and left him alone for a time. When she came back, he was feeling very peculiar, and his vision had blurred. She got him to his feet and took him back to her bedchamber.

It must have been hours later before she returned him to the prison room and took Sanviro away with her. He fell onto the cot and wept, feeling utterly devastated. He'd felt violated before, but he hadn't been forced to participate in his own violation.

How was Sanviro going to cope with this?

He rolled over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling, tears continuing to stream down the sides of his face. It occurred to him, as he lay there, that, even if they couldn't escape, if he killed her, she wouldn't be able to do this to anyone else. He shuddered. It was a terrible thought, and a decision that he wouldn't be making for himself alone. He would be dooming Sanviro as well, and it wasn't as if he could ask the boy what he thought. _Might as well stroll up to her and say, 'Oh, and Daviona, I'm contemplating ways to kill you, if you don't mind.'_ He threw his forearm over his eyes, wishing he'd never thought of it.

He awoke with a start when the bar came off the door and sat up to see Sanviro stumble into the room. The other man stopped a few feet in, arms clutched around himself, and the door shut solidly behind him, making him jump. Jeclarren was on his feet and moving towards him before the bar slid home.

"Come, sit down, Sanviro," he said, putting his arm around the other's shoulders. "It will be all right."

Sanviro started shaking his head as Jeclarren eased them down onto the cot by the wall. "I – I – Did you –"

Jeclarren swallowed convulsively. "If you're asking if I . . . joined in, the answer is yes." Sanviro looked up at him. "I couldn't help it, and neither could you."

"Yes!" called her voice gaily from the door, and they both turned. Jeclarren's stomach clenched into knots. "You'll both be much happier once you accept that your fate is to serve me."

Sanviro broke away from Jeclarren and leapt forward. "I will never serve you!" he yelled, his body vibrating with fury. "You're an evil, horrid woman of unnatural desires!"

She trilled with laughter. "My desires are anything but unnatural, sweet thing," she said, her voice full of amusement. "You're a pair of handsome young men and I'm a healthy adult woman. Nothing could be more natural."

Jeclarren had gotten up a second after the boy, and he put his hands on his new friend's shoulders. "There's no point in arguing with her, Sanviro," he said softly, hoping she wouldn't hear exactly what he said.

"But –" Sanviro said, his expression full of anger, frustration and misery. "But –" He gestured toward their captor.

"I know," Jeclarren said. "I know, but yelling at her won't fix it."

He heard her laughing again and the sound of her footsteps moving away, and he managed to get Sanviro back onto the cot.

"I want her to stop!" Sanviro groaned, curling up into a tight ball and rolling onto his side. Jeclarren spooned with him, his arms around him.

"I know, believe me."

"Why is she doing this?"

"I've asked. She won't answer."

Sanviro fell silent for a long moment. "I wish I could just die."

"Death isn't the anwer," Jeclarren said. "Think of Romily," he added, without thinking.

The boy let out a shuddering sob, and Jeclarren held him while he wept again.

* * *

As the day progressed, Teela stayed as close to Adam as she could. She couldn't follow him into the privy, but that was about it. Their parents were always around as well, but Teela watched Adam's face, observing his moods as they shifted.

She had made an astonishing discovery today, when she saw Adam. She didn't know when it had happened, or how, but she was in love with him. It didn't change much, she would have been devastated no matter what had happened. They'd always been close, shared a bond of friendship that had weathered any number of upsets, the worst of which had been his reaction to the battles with Skeletor. But now, now she had discovered a deeper feeling in herself. She needed him, emotionally, in a way she had never expected to.

And she didn't dare tell anyone. Her father would say it was just a reaction to the threat of almost losing him, and so would the king and queen, she thought. Adam himself wasn't ready to hear any such thing, so she would have to keep it locked up tight inside.

In the meantime, though, she couldn't stop watching him. She was worried about his reactions. He was so incredibly depressed, and she didn't know what to do about it. Her feelings were all tangled up in ways that made everything she wanted to do seem extremely complicated. She didn't want to scare him, and she was terribly afraid that she would.

So she tried to be very normal, very ordinary, and got him to play cards with her. He kept lapsing into long, dismal silences, though, and she was so distracted by trying to figure out what she could do that she spent large amounts of time silent herself, which couldn't be helping his mood any.

After about a half hour, she felt a hand come down on her shoulder. It was so sudden that it made her jump, and Adam started as well. She looked up into the king's eyes.

"This is about the quietest card game I've ever witnessed," he said, smiling. "Mind if I join you?"

"Of course not, Father," Adam said. He tossed his cards face up on the table. "I'm not even sure what I was trying for," he added, shrugging. "Teela, do you mind if we just start over?"

"Not at all," she replied, gathering the cards up and starting to shuffle. "Do you mind gin rummy, your highness?"

"You know, Teela," the king said, "there are no courtiers here, and I'm not wearing my crown. Do you think you might be persuaded to call me Uncle Randor, as you did when you were small?"

Teela's eyes widened as the king took the seat at the end of the table. "Sir?" she asked. This was a startling turn of events.

Adam snickered, and she turned to glare at him. Unbowed by her irritation, he said, "Dad, Teela's a very formal person when it comes to these things."

"I am not!" she exclaimed.

"Well, not when it comes to me," Adam said thoughtfully. "But I'm probably just a special case."

The king looked indulgently at his son, and said, "If it makes you uncomfortable, my dear, I won't insist."

"It's not that – it's just – I –" Her father walked up a moment later, and she seized on him as a source of rescue. "Father?"

"Yes, Teela?" He sat down opposite the king.

"Dad wants Teela to unbend a little, and she's having some trouble with the notion," Adam said, and she glared at him again. Her glare lost some of his ferocity, though, when she realized that he was actually teasing her, and that there was a smile, however small, on his lips. In fact, she spent a moment in contemplation of his lips before she realized what she was doing and hastily averted her eyes.

The discussion had continued without her participation, and what had started as a fairly simple request had been blown into something enormous. She cleared her throat. "It's not a problem, really," she said. "I'm sorry, Uncle Randor, you just took me by surprise."

The king beamed, her father smiled and Adam looked faintly amused. The queen walked up and sat down beside her. "Well, then, let's make a family party of it, shall we?"

Teela finished shuffling, adding a second deck to accomodate the increased size of the group. She wondered dazedly if the queen wanted her to go back to calling her Aunt Marlena. It would be so very odd if she did. Especially with the way she was feeling about Adam . . . not at all cousinly.

The adults kept the conversation going, getting both of them to speak when they got lost in their individual worlds. She wondered what Adam was thinking about when he meandered down his mental pathways. From the look in his eyes, they weren't pleasant thoughts. _We are going to have to help him discover some happier thoughts,_ she thought firmly. How they were going to accomplish that, she wasn't sure, but it had to happen. Of that she was absolutely certain.

zzz

Randor enjoyed the card game, and he tried to see to it that both the children did as well. Eventually, however, it became clear to him that Adam was feeling a little overwhelmed by company. He glanced at Duncan, who appeared to have seen the same signs, and nodded.

Duncan rose. "I'm sorry Adam, but it's time for Teela and I to be heading home." Teela looked up at him pleadingly, but her father patted her on the shoulder. "Come along. You have work to do in the morning, as have I."

Teela stood up and walked around the table towards Adam. He stood as well, and they hugged. "You remember your promise, okay?" she said in his ear.

Randor bit his lip, uncertain that reminding him at the moment was wise, but Adam just said, "Yeah, all right." He pulled away and gave her a smile that was achingly reminiscent of his usual teasing grin. "You just work on your concentration skills. That was the worst game of rummy I've ever seen you play."

Teela glared and gave him a mock-cuff to the shoulder. "See you later," she said, and left the room quickly. Duncan nodded to them all and followed after her.

Adam stretched and stood there, looking sort of lost, as if he wasn't sure what to do next. "It's very odd," he said. "I have no tasks, nothing to accomplish. I don't remember a time when that was the case, not since I was very small."

Cringer came out from under the table where he'd been warming toes, rubbed up against Adam's thigh, and the boy looked down and smiled, scratching his pet's head.

"Well, I happen to know that you're not yet up to par on economic theory," Marlena said. "And I seem to recall a deficiency in maths. I could arrange to have some of your schoolwork sent here for you."

Adam grimaced, then shrugged. "It couldn't hurt," he said, causing both his parents to raise their eyebrows in surprise.

With the air of someone who was striking while the iron was hot, Marlena looked up. "Sorceress?" Randor couldn't hear the response, but it was evident that there was one from the abstracted look on her face.

"She's not wasting any time, is she?" Adam asked dryly.

"Do you blame her?" Randor asked, giving his son an amused look, hoping desperately that he was taking the right tone.

Adam chuckled. "I guess not. I've been a little inattentive in my studies lately, I guess." He shrugged and walked toward the windows. "There's just been so much hellish stuff going on. Calculus didn't seem very important in light of Skeletor."

"Well, your need for education doesn't stop because some nitwit has decided that he wants to rule Eternia," Marlena said, and Adam turned briefly to stick out his tongue at her. Then he returned to gazing out the window over the dimly lit countryside. It was half moon dark, so only one of the moons was up tonight. Randor walked over and sat on the window sill next to where Adam stood.

"You know," Adam said, "tomorrow night will be full moon dark."

"Will it?" Randor asked, casting his mind back to his calendar. He'd known there was one coming up but he'd forgotten it was so soon. There were usually no more than two or three a year, so it was a notable occasion.

"Yes," Adam said. "The only light will come from the stars." He was looking up at the sky, his eyes seeming to look both outward and inward at once.

"True," Randor replied, not certain he liked this mood, but not sure how to change it.

"In stories, it's a night of mystical convergences, of dark spells, of sneak attacks," Adam went on in an odd voice.

"And elopements," Marlena said, breaking into the somber melancholy Adam was surrounding himself with and shattering it as Adam looked up in surprise. "And lover's trysts," she added, "though I doubt you read many of those sorts of novels."

"No, there aren't a lot of lover's trysts in the novels I read," Adam admitted. "Though there is the odd elopement, in ones that have more political intrigue."

"I don't think there are any elopements in the book we were reading," Randor said thoughtfully. "At least not so far."

"Hey, yeah, we were still in the middle of that," Adam said.

"Well, I'm getting a little tired," Randor said. "And your mother hasn't been reading this book, so why don't you and I go get into bed and read for awhile?"

Adam yawned and Cringer gave his knee a rub, clearly in favor of heading to bed. "Okay," Adam said, standing up and stretching. He winced a little as he reached full extension and brought his left arm down to his chest again.

Marlena stood up and went over to the side table where Dorgan had left Adam's medicine when he'd left earlier in the afternoon to go look at medical books in the castle's library. She brought over a syrup and poured it into a spoon. Adam made a face, but he took the painkiller.

They went into the other room, and, as they got ready for bed, Randor contemplated his bright, beautiful son, who always and only wished good things for others. It was worse than a crime that such a spirit had been so badly damaged, it was an abomination.

"Father? Will it disturb the people to have a king who was tortured as a young man?" Adam asked suddenly. "I mean, tortured so badly that he had to be secluded for a long time before he was seen in public again?"

"They'll be angry on your behalf," he said.

"But will they trust me?" Adam asked. "Or will they be afraid that I'll crack under pressure?"

"Adam, during the first battle with Skeletor I was tortured and nearly killed," Randor said. "The people trust me."

"But that's different. You were king for twenty years before that. I've never been known for much except for sleeping in stables."

"You will have opportunities in the future to be known for other things, long before you must be king."

Adam pulled the covers back and climbed into the bed. When he'd settled himself, he looked up at his father. "Do you ever wish the Elders hadn't chosen you?"

Randor sighed deeply and climbed in next to his son, picking up the book and leaning against the headboard. "Frequently. I was stunned that they did it in the first place. I certainly didn't think I was meant to be a king. I expected to retire from the army in my dotage and take over your great-grandfather's farm. I even had a manager all picked out, Ferin, the man who manages it to this day."

"So I'm not the only one who wishes things had turned out that way?" Adam asked, leaning against his side.

"Not by any means." Opening the book, Randor rested it on his lap. "I was very much afraid your mother would refuse my offer of marriage when I told her I had been appointed king by the Elders."

"Why would she have?" Adam asked. "She was in love with you."

"Being queen is a thankless, terribly boring task, and it's not very safe, either. A king's family is targeted by his enemies, as you have learned to your grief more than once."

"Well, neither Daviona nor Skeletor really have issues with the king of Eternia so much as they have issues with you yourself, though, right? I mean, you angered both of them well before you became king."

Randor nodded, letting his head rest against the wall behind him. "I suppose that's true. I hadn't really thought of it that way."

"I guess it's not really reassuring, though."

"It doesn't matter," Randor said, tousling his son's hair. Adam ducked and Randor smiled down at him. "Shall we start reading?"

Adam leaned close and listened attentively as his father took up the tale again, but Randor's mind was only half on the words he was reading. The other half was wishing he had never joined the army at all. Marlena's mother would have been happier with a farmer for her daughter in any case.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

Evil-Lyn looked up with a narrow gaze at the stars and the dark outline that was Grayskull. Skeletor had been insistent that their next attempt to seize Prince Adam had to take place at full moon dark, so here they were. She stood in the wood near the front of the castle with Tri-Klops and Trap Jaw at her back, prepared, against her better judgement, to be the diversionary attack. Skeletor, accompanied by Beastman, was ranging around the other side of the castle on griffonback. A doomseeker had lingered after they fled the last attack and had recorded the sickening reactions of the soldiers when they saw Prince Adam at a window in one of the towers.

At that point Skeletor had conceived a plan based around distracting both the guard and the Sorceress with a frontal attack while he flew up to the window and snatched Adam from his bedroom.

And she got the unparalleled honor of being the distraction.

"It's time," Tri-Klops growled behind her.

She suppressed a surge of irritation at the tech and nodded sharply. Then she lowered her staff and blasted the central tent of the garrison Randor had placed on the castle. It went up in a quite satisfactory shower of flaming canvas, and she strode forward, pleased by the sight of the guards running from all sides of Grayskull towards the front.

Her part of the plan was working nicely so far. It was time to engage the Sorceress.

She pointed her staff at the drawbridge and focused all the power she could on lowering it. The green glowing shield snapped up around the massive edifice, and Evil-Lyn spared a moment to hope that Skeletor was right that it would be easier to break out of the shield than into it.

* * *

Randor awakened abruptly as the shield around Grayskull sparked to life. He looked immediately toward the window, and he couldn't imediately recognize what he was seeing. A huge black shape largely blocked his view of the shield through one of the windows. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before.

Heedless of the risk, he flung himself across the room at the figure. A brilliant blast of red light hit him in the chest, briefly illuminating the form. Randor saw Skeletor sitting astride a griffin before he slammed backwards into the side of the bed.

He was dazed and paralyzed but was aware the world around him. He heard a muffled cry of alarm from Adam, and an odd thumping sound beside him. "Father?" Adam said, taking his chin and turning his head to look into his eyes.

A moment later, though, Adam released his head and, limp on his neck, it turned back again toward the window, and Randor could see Skeletor climbing through the window, one foot on the sill, a hand on either side of the frame.

Adam was scrabbling for a weapon amid Randor's armor, or at least that's what it sounded like.

Suddenly, another figure entered his line of sight, and he groaned. What was Marlena –

His wife made an enormous, violent motion, and Skeletor let out a scream of pain and pitched backward out the window. The griffin dove, allowing the dim green light of the shields to illuminate the room.

Marlena turned. "Adam?"

"Mother?" There was a pause. "Where's Skeletor?"

"I gave him his marching orders," the queen replied. "Are you –"

"Father!" Adam exclaimed, and he was suddenly at Randor's side again. "Should we get him onto the bed?"

* * *

A loud cry echoed in the abyss, but Evil-Lyn didn't allow it to distract her from her set task. A moment later, the shield faltered and went down. All resistance on the drawbridge abruptly ceased, and it slammed down to the stone.

She stared in complete shock. On either side of her, her colleagues froze in astonishment. Then a pair of griffins flew overhead and they could hear Skeletor calling the retreat. She reached a hand out helplessly toward the drawbridge, which still stood open and unguarded.

Tri-Klops took her arm. "We'd better go," he said, his voice harsh.

"But –" Trap Jaw said. "But don't you think he'd –"

Evil-Lyn turned sharply. "He wouldn't want us to succeed where he failed," she said, walking swiftly back to her own griffin. The others followed her, though Trap Jaw kept stuttering. Just before they took off, the drawbridge slammed closed again.

* * *

Randor attempted to speak as they tried to get him up onto the bed, but his muscles wouldn't work. It took both of them to lift him up, and just when they finally got him on his back on the mattress, the shield went down and there was an echoing crash. Adam ran to the window and looked out. "The drawbridge! It's down!"

Dorgan came into the room and flooded it with light. "Is everyone all – wait!"

Randor couldn't move and couldn't speak, so he couldn't see what was going on. He heard a scuffle in the doorway. "Adam, no!" Marlena exclaimed and left Randor's side. His heart, already beating fast, sped up with anxiety.

He couldn't tell anything for certain, but he thought he was alone. His mind filled with desperate questions. What was Adam doing? Was he trying to kill himself again? Was he trying to go fight with Skeletor or Evil-Lyn? The drawbridge was down – was he trying to go out? Where had they all gone? He thought he could hear voices in the next room, but it was impossible to make out what they were saying. His heart raced, and his breath was starting to come in short gasps. Was that emotionally caused, or was his diaphragm becoming paralyzed too?

An eternity of seconds passed, and then he heard Dorgan speaking. "Come on, Adam. We can't leave you alone, you have to walk with us." He could hear Marlena's labored breathing and a faint weeping that he thought must be coming from Adam.

A moment later, he felt something hit the bed and realized it was Adam as he curled up against him.

Dorgan leaned down into Randor's range of vision. "He seems to be aware of us. Randor, can you hear me?" The expression in his eyes must have been very telling, for the healer grimaced. "I seem to have annoyed him."

Dorgan moved away again, then returned with his tools and began checking Randor's reactions out. The king lay, his breath slowing gradually, his son curled up and weeping against his side. There was another loud bang, and Adam jumped, then burrowed closer.

"The drawbridge is back up," Marlena said from the direction of the windows. "And it appears that the soldiers have the fire under control now."

"Good," Dorgan said absently, shining lights into Randor's eyes. The king, irritated by the blinding glare, closed his eyes. "Randor, open your eyes," the healer growled.

"I don't think any of Skeletor's people are around, either," Marlena said.

"Unless they've gotten inside," Dorgan muttered. Adam moaned and Randor snapped his eyes opened again to glare up at the healer. Dorgan grimaced again and pressed his lips firmly together.

"No one has gotten inside," said a calming voice from behind him and to his left, roughly the location of the door way into the bed chamber. Dorgan looked up briefly then looked back down at Randor again.

"Glad to hear it."

"What has happened?" the Sorceress asked, a note of concern in her voice.

"I'm not sure. No one has actually told me what happened."

"I don't know what happened to Randor," Marlena said. "Skeletor was at the window, climbing in. I stabbed him and he fell."

The Sorceress hove into view above him, and he was beginning to wonder what really was wrong with him. He didn't feel as if he'd hit his head or neck in such a way to cause paralysis.

"This has no natural cause," she said, gazing down at him clinically. She raised a hand above his face, palm down, and it began to glow with a blue light. Several moments passed, and Randor began to feel tingly, as if there were pins and needles in his skin. He tried to move his arm, to put it around Adam. His fingers twitched slightly, which was a vast improvement over complete immobility.

"Be still a moment longer, king of Eternia," the Sorceress said. He stopped trying to move and lay still while she continued whatever it was she was doing. There was a slow increase in the glow, then a flash, and she spoke again. "Now, you should be fine."

He flexed his hands, testing the movement, then rolled over and pulled Adam close. "It's all right, son, they didn't get in, they didn't get you."

Adam huddled in his arms, weeping inconsolably.

* * *

"That vile, miserable, wretched amazon of a queen!" Skeletor ranted as they all entered the throne room together. Evil-Lyn kept her face expressionless and stayed near the back of the group, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She noticed that Trap Jaw and Tri-Klops were being similarly self-effacing. They probably didn't want Skeletor asking them questions any more than she did.

When he turned, she felt her jaw drop, and she suddenly realized just what he was angry about. There was a huge, bloody gash in the right side of his chest, and his right arm hung uselessly by his side. In his left hand he held a dagger that dripped blood. His eye sockets glowed a brilliant crimson, and Beastman carried his staff.

"She will pay for this injury," he growled. "As will her precious son." He climbed the steps up to his throne and flung himself down, hissing in pain. "And we are no closer to securing the prince." He put the dagger down on the arm of the throne and held out his hand toward Beastman. The havoc staff wrenched itself out of the hairy cretin's paw and flew into Skeletor's hand.

The lord of Snake Mountain raised the staff in his left hand. "Begone from my sight!" he screamed, and they scattered like leaves in a windstorm.

Evil-Lyn returned to her own bedchamber, contemplating the insanity this power was driving Skeletor to. Surely there were better ways to capture Adam. For one thing, they could wait until the boy emerged again from Grayskull.

_But that would make sense,_ she thought dryly. _And Skeletor has never been known for having much of that commodity._

* * *

Randor held Adam close until he fell back to sleep, and then he looked up at the others. "What happened?" he asked the Sorceress. "How did Skeletor get so close?"

"He approached the castle from behind, getting inside the perimeter of the shields while I was looking for Daviona," the Sorceress said, an expression of guilt suffusing her features. "Then there was a frontal attack and the shields came up. I did not look within them for a source of danger, but without. When he fled, he broke through the shield from the inside, which is not as strong as the outside, and the puncture brought them down."

"And the drawbridge?" Marlena asked.

"That was the focus of the attack. When the shields went down, that which held the drawbridge up went with them and Evil-Lyn pulled the bridge down. They did not, however, follow up on their advantage, for which fact I suspect we can thank Skeletor's monumental ego. His minions feared to anger him by succeeding where he had failed."

"Could he be more cliche?" Adam asked, and Randor looked down at his son. Apparently he hadn't fallen asleep, he had merely quieted.

"What?" the Sorceress asked.

"A sneak attack by full moon dark, there isn't anything much more cliche than that." He let out an aggravated sigh. "It's lame."

Randor found his son's reaction most reassuring. He was clearly not as badly undone has he'd seemed. _Unless he's just hiding it better than you thought he could._ He hugged Adam tightly. "Well, lame or not, it failed completely, and we all need to get back to sleep."

Adam shrugged. "I guess," he said. He cuddled in closer and Randor kissed the top of his head.

He looked up at their hostess. "Thank you, and good night," he said. She smiled and nodded, turning to leave. Marlena and Dorgan accompanied her out.

Cringer emerged sleepily from the bathing chamber and walked over to the bed, climbing atop it. Adam chuckled. "You missed all the fun, big fellow," he said. Cringer made an inquiring sound as he stretched and settled himself next to Adam. "Skeletor attacked." The cat let out a low, rumbling growl, but Adam stroked his head gently, calming him. "It's okay, boy," he said, "Mom got rid of him."

Marlena came back into the room. "Are you two really all right?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Adam reached out, caught his mother's hand and squeezed it. Then he returned his attention to the further smoothing of Cringer's smooth fur.

Randor caught his wife's eye and smiled. "Come to bed, love," he said.

"I have a few more things I want to deal with first," she said, rising. "Does either of you need anything?"

Adam shook his head and Randor said, "No, dear."

Marlena tucked the covers up around them and went out into the sitting room. Randor lay wakeful with Adam sandwiched between his own body and Cringer. Only when Adam's breathing slowed to the gentle rhythm of the sleeper did Randor allow himself to drift off.

* * *

"Sorceress?" Marlena said quietly, sitting on a chair in the room that Dorgan had taken as his infirmary. "Are you still awake?"

"_I shall not sleep until morning,"_ the Sorceress replied. _"How can I help you, queen of Eternia?"_

"So long as we are here, you are not going to permit the drawbridge to be lowered during an attack, right?"

"_No, I shall not, if I can prevent it."_

"And this thing with Skeletor tonight, that won't happen again?"

"_I have already set alarms to prevent a recurrence,"_ the Sorceress said. _"Toward what end are these questions directed?"_

Marlena sighed. "I realized tonight that, even here, Adam has too easy an access to weapons. My daggers, Randor's entire bloody arsenal, the tools of Dorgan's trade . . ."

"_And?"_

"First, is there some way you can lock this room? Make it inaccessible to Adam if he's alone?"

"_I can,"_ the Sorceress said.

"And is there another space nearby in which Randor can store his armor and weapons? Theoretically, he should have no use for them in an attack, but I'm loath to send them home in case a need for them does arise."

There was a moment of thoughtful silence. _"I think something of the like can be arranged. And what of your weapons?"_

"I'll leave my remaining blade with Randor's weapons."

"_Remaining?"_

"The one I used tonight left with Skeletor," Marlena said. "The other, I will leave with Randor's things."

"_I see,"_ the Sorceress said with a dry note in her mental voice. _"Well, that certainly seems wise under the circumstances."_ There was another pause, then she went on. _"I am very sorry that Skeletor got past my notice. That should not have happened."_

"No lasting harm was done, except perhaps to Skeletor, and I find that I can tolerate that with a great deal of equanimity," Marlena replied. "Did you call Duncan?"

"_I did. He was halfway here with the masters before the battle was over. They are outside, helping the guard to reconstruct their garrison."_

"I presume you told them that we are well?"

"_Of course. I suspect that Duncan will want to come in relatively soon to be certain. He is ever one who wishes to see things with his own eyes."_

Marlena chuckled, relaxing against the back of the chair. "That's certainly the truth," she said. "Well, I guess that I had better stay up a little longer then, so that one of us will be awake to greet him."

"_He is requesting entrance even now,"_ the Sorceress said with a hint of amusement.

"I'm ready for him to come in, then. Just warn him that Randor, Adam and Dorgan are all asleep."

She felt assent, and then the Sorceress was gone. Leaning her head back against the chair, Marlena reflected that her life and her outlook on the world had changed dramatically over the past weeks. She would never have thought that she would calmly discuss anything with the Sorceress of Grayskull, much less converse with the woman while they were in separate parts of the castle by means of telepathic communication. And that left aside the astonishing fact that she and her family were all residing within the castle itself, even if temporarily.

She stood up. Duncan would undoubtedly arrive soon, and she wanted to greet him to keep him from awakening Randor or Adam. Thinking of Adam made her stomach clench slightly. His condition was desperately worrisome, all the more so because she had no idea what to do for him. She had no idea even if she _could_ do much for him, as focused on his father as he had become.

There was a tapping on the door and she walked across to open it. Duncan walked in and looked around as if expecting to see a war zone. "What happened?" he asked. "The soldiers didn't see much, though they said that the drawbridge came down and stayed down for some time, and the Sorceress isn't being very forthcoming."

"Skeletor sneaked up on the castle," Marlena said, guiding Duncan to a seat. She outlined the events for him, discovering as she did so that she was growing weary past all measure. Falling asleep in a chair while reading was no longer as comfortable for her as it had once been, and the sleep nowhere near as restful.

"You actually stabbed Skeletor?" Duncan asked incredulously.

She raised an eyebrow. "I did," she said. "As I said, he was climbing in through the window, and the only way I could think of to stop him was to give him something else to think about."

"You say Randor was paralyzed?"

She nodded. "He couldn't move more than his eyelids, but the Sorceress fixed him." She raised a hand. "Before you ask, I have no idea exactly what happened to him. I was out here, sleeping in a chair when the ruckus started."

"And you look ready to fall over asleep now," Duncan said. "I should go. The others will have questions as well." He stood up. "Do you think Adam will be ready for company in the morning? I have my hands full of requests."

She pursed her lips. "A couple of visitors, I think. Mekanek would be a good choice. I know Adam's comfortable with him. Stratos could be too insufferably bracing, I suspect. He tends to be overly sympathetic and cossetting when he's concerned, and I'm afraid that Adam's not up to it right now."

"I agree," Duncan said. "Adam doesn't need his troubles emphasized just now, I wouldn't say." He smiled down at her. "Good night, my queen."

He left, and she went into the bedroom and climbed into the bed behind Randor, leaning up against his back.

* * *

Teela awoke from wretched dreams and went out to join her father for breakfast. It was the second night since her abrupt realization about her feelings regarding Adam, and the second night with truly hideous dreams. He questioned her closely regarding her dreams, for what the Sorceress had done was not supposed to stop her Sight, merely things like the uncontrolled incineration of tables.

Finally, as he was dwelling at length on one of the dreams that had been most unpleasant, and that she least wanted to remember and discuss for any amount of time, she lost her patience. "It didn't feel like one of the real dreams, Father!" she snapped irritably. "Those are different." She could hear that her voice was strident, but she just pursed her lips and looked down at her plate.

"How so?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

_Is this a test? Is he just pushing me to see if I can actually identify differences between Seeing dreams and ordinary ones?_ She gave a moment's thought. "They wake me up, for one thing," she replied, helping herself to another piece of toast. "And there's a sense of urgency during them and afterwards. These were just nightmares, that's all."

"Very well," he said, and she rolled her eyes. Sometimes her father could be so pompous. "But I still want you to talk about them with me. You may not always have considered them closely enough."

"Yes, Father," she said, sighing. "I just don't want to examine some of the ones like I had last night too closely." _Adam trapped, injured and in pain, and I'm the only one who can help him . . . but I can't get past the barriers. Adam alone and weeping, and while I can hear him, I can't find him. Adam dead and laid out on a pallet in the Great Hall so that the people can pay their last respects. _She sighed deeply. _I'm sensing a trend here. Is being in love supposed to be so nerve-wracking?_

"Well, I've sent for more materials so that you and Nalineph can continue your research."

She looked up, startled. "Our research? But, Father, that was focused toward finding the lair near Tronak. We've found it. What would we be looking for now?"

He nodded, swallowing the last of his chai and wiping his lips with a napkin. "That's why I sent for more materials. I want you to broaden your research, see if you can find any reference to her anywhere in the time frame we've laid out. She has to have gone to ground somewhere. Perhaps you can find something that will give us a direction."

Her brows knit together, as she imagined the enormity of that task. It had been bad enough addressing the records of just one region, but looking over all of Eternia, and anywhere else they could get records for . . . that was more than merely daunting, it was damned near impossible. "Just Nalineph and me?" she asked.

"I will be seeing if I can find others to help you," he said. "But the two of you have already worked out a formula for what you're looking for. I don't want to disrupt that any more than I can help."

She sighed and nodded. "I guess I can understand that. And we work together pretty well." Rising, she started to go out of the room to seek her partner in dusty research.

"Um . . . Teela?" her father said before she reached the door. She turned back, puzzled by his hesitancy. "I think you'd better know. There was an attack on Grayskull last night."

Her jaw dropped. "An attack? Why am I only hearing about it now?"

"I was out the door and headed toward the hangar before I realized I hadn't wakened you. I took the night watch masters with me, figuring that with the garrison, we'd be all right. The attack was over before we got there."

"But I didn't –" Teela felt baffled and confused. "I didn't See anything. If Adam was in danger, why didn't I See anything?"

"The Sight isn't always that reliable, dearheart," her father said, walking over and putting his hands on her shoulders. "It isn't always that predictable."

"It's not right!" she growled. "If I'm have to have the damned things, they ought to come whenever there's a problem, not just sometimes when there's a problem. What happened?"

"Skeletor nearly got into Grayskull," Duncan said and Teela bit her lip. "He managed to get inside the perimeter of the shields before they came up and started to climb in a window."

Teela blinked. "A window?" she repeated incredulously. "He tried to climb in through a window?"

"Marlena stabbed him and he fell."

The image of the outraged look on Skeletor's face when he realized that little Queen Marlena had been the downfall of his latest plan made her want to laugh until it occurred to her that he would be humiliated by the event. In Skeletor, humiliation led to anger and cruelty. Thus far, he had left the queen out of his attacks and schemes. "He's going to be furious with her," she said.

Her father looked up, startled, then his eyes widened. "Oh hell, you're right. He's going to want her blood for that."

They were silent for a moment of shared dread, then she shook her head, trying to stop worrying about something she couldn't change. "When can I go back and visit Adam again?"

He smiled, evidently as grateful for the turn of the subject as she was. "I've got you scheduled for a full day the day after tomorrow."

She was torn between distress that it was so far away and elation that it would be a full day. After brief consideration, though, she decided on elation. A couple more days might help her get her turbulent emotions under firmer control.

Her father seemed surprised when she simply thanked him for the information and left to go to her work. She wasn't looking forward to a day spent with the books again, but she was willing to do anything that would help them find Daviona and destroy her once and for all.

* * *

Adam and his father left his mother sleeping and went out into the sitting room. Cringer stayed in bed, curling up against the queen. "Skeletor came last night, didn't he?" Adam asked his father as they settled down to their breakfasts. "That wasn't a nightmare."

"No, it wasn't a nightmare," Randor said. "He came."

"And Mom stabbed him?" His father nodded, and Adam felt his heart sink. "And I was completely useless. Worse than useless." He looked down at his plate, his appetite gone.

"You were not useless, son. You helped your mother get me onto the bed."

Adam sighed. "Yeah, but I acted like a ninny while Skeletor was actually here. I should have run across and shoved him, that would have sent him out the window and Mother wouldn't have had to get involved."

He hadn't looked up from his plate as he spoke, but his father made an odd sort of strangled sound and reached out to grab his left hand. Adam looked up into his father's worried eyes.

"I want you to promise me something, Adam," the king said urgently. "I want you to promise that if Skeletor comes anywhere near you, you will run as fast as you can in the opposite direction."

Adam shook his head. "Father, I can't flee like that. I have to –"

His father's hand tightened on his, and his eyes seemed to bore into him. "Listen to me, Adam," he said, his voice deep with emotion. "It's you Skeletor wants. If he gets hold of you, he simply takes off and he has what he was after in the first place." Adam's stomach chilled at the thought of being in the clutches of Snake Mountain's lord again. "If you'd shoved at him last night, he might simply have wrapped his arms around you and carried you out the window with him, allowing the griffin to catch you both and carry you back to Snake Mountain."

The prince wanted to hunch up into a ball, as if that would hide him from such an attack. He breathed in deeply and let it out slowly, wishing that life could go back to something akin to normal. _He-Man could deal with Skeletor, but Adam can't,_ he thought suddenly. "Father, I need my sword," he said, looking up earnestly. "I need a way to protect myself."

The worry and sadness in his father's eyes took him aback, and then the king shook his head. "No, Adam, I'm sorry." He reached a little further and touched the bandage on Adam's left arm. "We can't allow you to have weapons right now, son, you must see that."

"But –" Adam shook his head, horrified. "But if Skeletor comes – or Daviona – I won't have any way to defend myself!"

"You will run," Randor said firmly. "You will not risk yourself in a direct confrontation."

"But what if there's no choice? What if I run out of places to run? What if I'm cornered?"

"There will always be people with you, son," his father said sympathetically. "But we can't give you a weapon."

Adam stared down at his plate unseeingly, his left hand still in his father's affectionate grip, his right hand in his lap. _They don't trust me,_ he thought, gulping.

"Adam?" his father said. "Adam, I'm sorry, but –"

"No, it's fine," Adam said, his voice sounding dead to his own ears. His father flinched. Adam stood up and pulled away, going over to the sofa to sit down. He leaned into the corner of the seat, bringing his knees up to his chest and putting his feet on the cushion in front of him. Resting his chin on his knees, he stared at nothing, wishing he could stop thinking, stop feeling, stop caring about anything.

After a few minutes, his father came over and sat next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Adam didn't look at him.

"Son, it's not meant –"

Adam looked up, and the look on his face made his father break off. "Please, don't talk right now, okay?"

Randor nodded. "Do you mind if I sit with you?" Adam shook his head and looked down again. The king stood up and said, "Budge over, would you?" Sighing, Adam shifted and let his father slide in behind him on the sofa, so that he was no longer leaning into the corner of the back and the arm, but the corner of the back and his father's side.

He didn't know how long they stayed in that position because he felt so numb and dismayed that he wasn't able to pay attention to time's passage. The only thing he was good for anymore, the only thing he had that allowed him to contribute to his world, his kingdom, was being denied him. _Not that I really want the damned thing!_ Adam thought savagely. _Sometimes I think being He-Man is more trouble than it's worth._

But he knew that wasn't true. Prince Adam couldn't catch falling towers, or rip whole hillsides away to use as missiles. Prince Adam could not defeat Skeletor, and that was the pure, simple truth of the matter. _But He-Man can't inherit the throne,_ he thought. _For all the good that does me._

"Good morning," his mother said. Adam looked up and gave her a half-smile. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Adam said, resting his chin on his knees again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her glance at his father, then sigh and nod. He'd probably given her some signal that he'd explain later. This was wretched. He wanted to stop being prey to every emotion that flitted past him. He wished he could simply exert some kind of iron control that would allow him to disregard his emotions, but when he'd tried that earlier, tried to force normalcy, it had led to . . . . He averted his thoughts hastily from that train, but it would not stop.

Tears started pouring down his cheeks, wetting the knees of his pants. At least he managed to weep silently this time, so his parents weren't aware of it. Cringer stepped up onto the sofa in front of him and rubbed his legs, then looked into his face.

"Mrow?" he said, licking one of Adam's cheeks, and a moment later, he reached out with his front paw and patted his father's leg.

"Yes, Cringer?" Randor said, looking up from the papers he was reading. "What is –" Adam felt himself being turned, then his father lifted his chin and looked into his face. "Adam, what –" He broke off and fell silent, simply pulling Adam into his arms.

Unwillingly, feeling like a fool but utterly trapped in his misery, he cried on his father's chest until his tears were exhausted. After that he just lay, numb and weary, in his father's arms. He wasn't sure how long that lasted either, but finally Dorgan walked up.

"Well, Adam, it's time for me to run some tests on you again," he said, disregarding the evidence of the emotional storm that had shaken the prince earlier, if, indeed, he noticed them in the first place.

Adam sat up, putting his feet on the floor and looked at his father. The mute entreaty must have gotten through, for the king stood up with him and accompanied him into the infirmary chamber.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Mekanek flew the wind raider with practiced ease, his thoughts elsewhere. Man-E-Faces sat in the co-pilot's seat, keeping a watchful eye out for possible attackers, and while Mekanek had intially wanted to make this trip alone, he was glad of the other master's presence, for it freed him to think.

He was worried about his prince, which went without saying, really. There was no one among the masters who wasn't worried about Adam. Even Roboto, who was generally thought to have very limited emotional capacity, had stated concern about the boy. Admittedly, it had stemmed from the illogic of his attempting to destroy himself, but nevertheless, it was a definite sign of caring as far as Mekanek was concerned.

Mekanek was among the few masters who had been at court since the prince had been born. His son, Phillip, had been six when Adam was born, and Randor had occasionally asked questions of him when his own store of knowledge about babies had been exhausted. Both he and Duncan had, actually, which had made Mek feel a little out of his depth. His captain / king and the king's man-at-arms, both asking him for advice.

As a result, however, he had a very proprietary interest in both Adam and Teela, having had a hand in raising them. And the presence of the two children had been all that kept him sane during those months and years it took him to accept that Phillip wasn't coming back. Their very direct and straightforward grief had allowed him to acknowledge his own. Their parents had tried to keep them from bothering him, but he had taken pleasure in their company, because they didn't expect too much of him.

Now he was torn. He wanted to provide that uncomplicated support to Adam, but he couldn't disregard depression that was severe enough to lead to multiple suicide attempts. That required something a great deal more direct than mere support, to his way of thinking.

Grayskull loomed up ahead of them, and he landed the wind raider in the usual place. Man-E-Faces sighed as they climbed out. "I wish I could go in with you," he said. "I didn't even get to see him on the ramparts that day, because we didn't make it here in time for the battle."

Mekanek nodded. "I know, Manny," he said sympathetically.

"But you probably know him the best of all of us short of Duncan, and I know he thinks a lot of you." Manny shrugged. "I'll get to see him soon, no doubt."

They passed in among the garrison and Manny stopped there while Mekanek went out to the edge of the abyss. He opened his mouth to call out to the Sorceress, but the drawbridge opened before he did more than draw breath to speak.

Feeling a bit tentative, for this would be his first solo trip inside the gloomy, awe-inspiring castle, he walked across the drawbridge. To his extreme surprise, the Sorceress herself met him on the other end of the bridge. "Good afternoon," she said.

He bowed, more than a little stunned by her presence as well as her beauty. And her strong resemblance to Teela. Shaking his head, he said, "I've come to visit Adam, ma'am."

"I know," she said. "Please, follow me."

He followed in her footsteps through the halls of the castle, wondering if the reason she was accompanying him was to keep him from exploring the side halls of his route. If so, she didn't have to worry. He wasn't interested in discovering what lay at the ends of halls that dark in an enchanted castle. He'd read far too many folk tales to children to think that exploring a magical castle was safe.

They reached a door he recognized from his last trip into these halls, and she turned back to him. "Duncan will be coming this evening. If you need to leave before then, simply speak my name and I will reply."

"Certainly," he said. "What is your name?"

"Tee –" She broke off, her eyes widening. "Call me Sorceress."

He blinked, though she couldn't see it, and nodded. "Of course, Sorceress," he replied as blandly as possible. It was an interesting slip, but it was really none of his business. She seemed to appreciate his reticence. He turned away to knock on the door, and when he turned back again, she was gone.

The queen opened the door, and he nodded respectfully to her. "Good afternoon, your highness," he said.

She smiled her greeting and stepped back from the doorway. "Adam and Randor are in with Dorgan just now, but they should be out momentarily."

He walked into the room, looking about curiously. "This suite does juxtapose oddly with the rest of the castle, I must say."

She chuckled, leading him to a seating arrangement. "It does," she agreed. "I'm just as glad, though. The last thing Adam needs right now is gloom from the atmosphere."

Mekanek waited for her to seat herself, then sat down across from her. "How is he?" he asked.

Marlena pursed her lips worriedly. "Very fragile," she replied. "Yesterday he was extremely quiet, and then Skeletor attacked last night." Her face worked silently for a moment, and Mekanek pretended that he didn't know she was trying not to cry. "He wants the pain to end, and all I can tell him is that it will take time." He didn't know what to say, but she didn't give him a chance to fumble for the right words. "He cried for two hours this morning, and there was nothing either of us could do." She shook her head. "Actually, there was nothing I could do. Randor could hold him. I'm afraid to touch him sometimes when he's overwrought, for fear of giving some kind of flashback."

"It will pass, Marlena," Mekanek said, hating the platitude, but knowing it for truth. "I know how empty that sounds, believe me, but he will get better."

"I know, but only if we can keep him with us long enough," she replied. Gulping, she made an effort to smile again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be dumping this on you, Mekanek."

He shook his head. "Who better?" he asked. "It's part of what I'm here for, my queen. To be a support in your time of need." He made a rueful face. "And if I didn't just sound like someone out of a bad novel, I don't know what would."

She smiled at him more genuinely. "You sound like a loyal friend," she said, reaching out and squeezing his hand. "And I thank you for that, Mekanek."

The door in the wall to his left opened and Adam and his father emerged. The boy looked uncommonly serious, and Mekanek could see that his eyes were still slightly swollen. Randor had his arm around his son's shoulders and was watching him with tender concern. Dorgan came out behind them looking quietly worried.

Adam looked up and his eyes brightened when he saw Mekanek. "Mek! What are you doing here?"

"What do you think, kid? I came to see you."

A smile lit up Adam's whole face. Mekanek stood up and walked over to his side and said, "So, how are you?"

The boy's face fell again, and his left hand strayed to the bandage on his right arm. "I'm okay," he said.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it," Mekanek said, ignoring the subtext to the prince's response. Adam's level of depression meant that his guest would have to take the initiative in selecting and maintaining activities. "Now, I've heard that you beat everyone around you at poker and chess anymore." The boy looked up at him perplexedly. "And as I'm not aching to be trounced, I though we might play backgammon."

Adam tilted his head. "I don't think I've ever played that much," he said.

"I didn't think you had," Mekanek said, putting a hand on his shoulder. He gave Randor a grin. "It's just a form of ego protection, see."

"I quite see," Randor said. His voice was neutral, but there was a load of irony in his eyes. "I don't know if we have a game here . . ."

Mekanek reached into a bag he'd brought with him. "Thought of that," he said. "I brought my own."

Adam looked down at the scuffed wooden case with its metal clasps, and Mekanek smiled. Adam looked up at his face. "I remember that," he said. "You and Phillip used to play a lot, didn't you?"

There was a brief stab of pain, but Mekanek had been expecting it. He'd chosen this game with care, figuring that Adam would remember it. He'd kept the set all these years, though he'd never had the heart to use it, but he thought that Adam needed to think about something beyond himself.

"Yes," Mekanek said, leading the boy across to the table. Adam looked up at his father, who nodded as they walked away, then went over to join Marlena on the sofa.

"I'm not sure I remember the rules," Adam said as Mekanek opened the case and folded it flat.

"It's not hard," he replied and reminded him of the basics. Adam listened intently, and then they started to play.

As he'd expected, Adam picked the game back up quickly, and soon they were playing quite on an even field. Gradually, the prince started to talk to him, commonplaces at first. Comments about the game, simple questions about the other masters and people they both knew well at court. Mekanek was aware of Marlena and Randor talking quietly across the room. Both the king and queen kept an unobtrusive eye on them as they played, their movements accompanied by the soft clicking of the stone pieces and the clatter of the dice against the surface of the board.

After they'd been playing for awhile, Mekanek said, "So, Adam, how are you really feeling?"

The boy looked up from the board. Mek had carefully not asked the question during Adam's turn. He hadn't wanted to give even the impression that he was trying to distract Adam from the game, so that the boy would have fewer excuses to avoid the question.

He didn't answer immediately, and Mekanek made his own move. Adam dropped his eyes to the board and considered his next move. After a couple of moments, he made a decision, then put his hands in his lap. Mekanek perused the board, waiting for an answer to his question. Finally, without looking up, Adam said, "Didn't Man-at-Arms tell you what happened?"

Mekanek nodded. "He did. But that doesn't tell me a lot. There are all sorts of emotions that can lead up to something like that."

Adam raised his eyes, looking troubled. "I guess," he said. "I've never thought about it much, really."

"So, how are you feeling, really?"

The prince didn't respond immediately, and when he did, it wasn't directed toward the question. "It's your turn," he said. Mekanek nodded and returned his attention to the game long enough to roll the dice and move his pieces. Then he looked up again, expectantly.

Adam pursed his lips and sighed. "I don't know how I feel," he said. "I don't feel the same for five minutes together, most of the time."

"Is there a theme?" Mekanek asked.

"A theme?" Adam sounded frankly baffled by the question.

"Yes, a theme. Do the various moods have a similarity?"

Adam looked back down at the board and his brows knit together. He made a move, then sat back from the table. Mekanek waited, gazing at the board, but paying little attention to the game. Finally, Adam cleared his throat. "Everything seems so hopeless. Even when I'm laughing with someone, there's a sense that it's meaningless, that it has no real impact on me."

Mekanek nodded. "I know how you feel," he replied.

"What?" Adam looked up, eyes plainly disbelieving.

Shrugging, Mek said, "After Phillip . . . died . . . I had much the same emotional reaction. There was no light in anything, no lasting pleasure." Adam was watching him intently, the disbelief fading. "And even when I did manage to enjoy a moment, I felt guilty for not missing him every second."

The prince was briefly silent, then he said, "I never knew that."

"I never talked about it, and you were ten when I finally accepted that Phillip had to be dead."

"I don't feel guilty," Adam said, "except when I think about Sanviro and Jeclarren, but there's nothing I can do about that."

"And from what I hear, what little you can do, you've done," Mekanek said. Adam knit his brows, clearly perplexed. "Well, I heard that you asked Dorgan to draw additional blood, and I know how you feel about needles these days." Adam shruggled looking down. "And I was told that you did it because you wanted Orko to have it so he could keep trying to find ways to separate the drugs out of it, for the benefit of Sanviro and Jeclarren."

"Well, that's no big deal," Adam said. "It's not doing much at all." He snorted. "It's not _doing_ anything, actually. It's just lying there while Dorgan does something."

Mekanek shrugged. "I don't discount the fact that you had to face something that really disturbs you these days in allowing it to be done," he said. Then he returned his attention to the game and made a move.

"I feel really stupid about that, actually," Adam said. "And a lot of things. That's part of why everything seems so pointless. I'll be perfectly normal, or as close to it as possible, and then someone does something completely ordinary, and I flip out, either because it reminds me of Davi or it hits me on some vulnerable spot I didn't even know I had."

Mekanek pursed his lips. He had to be careful – not to minimize or overstress anything. Adam was still under the influence of the conditioning drug according to Duncan, and he was undoubtedly vulnerable to intense emotional reactions on the part of those around him. Minimizing something could have the effect of making him feel even more foolish about his perfectly natural reactions, and overstressing it could add a new layer of importance and distress to it and make it harder for Adam to get past it in the future.

"That must be very frustrating," Mekanek said in response.

"It's more than frustrating," Adam replied bitterly. "It's debilitating. I don't know what's going to send me into some kind of emotional seizure. How can I go back to my life, go where anyone might see me? Some court girl flirts with me and I turn into a quivering ball of jelly in the fetal position on the floor. Not the greatest way to build confidence in the crown prince's stability."

"I don't think anyone's going to just shove you back, willy-nilly, Adam," Mekanek said. "I'm not going to say your fears are unrealistic, because they aren't." Adam hunched slightly. "But there are ways to work around it, things we can all do to help you cope. And I assure you, everyone who knows what's going on wants to help."

Adam shrugged and played his turn. "Yeah, but as soon as things calm down, as soon as everyone expects me to be over this, Father's going to send me off on some diplomatic mission, where I'll have to deal with courtiers and . . . and I'll come unglued and he'll be angry and . . . and . . ."

"That's not going to happen, Adam," Mekanek said. He could see Randor and Marlena beyond Adam, and the king's head came up at the mention of him in Adam's words. Mek devoutly hoped he'd be able to keep himself from interrupting. "For one thing, you won't be expected to be actively involved in court fuctions for a good long time, and I sincerely doubt that your father's going to send you anywhere out of sight for –" Mekanek gave a chuckle. "Well, let's just say I think you're going to have to persuade him that you're ready, not the other way round." The master had a private suspicion that Randor wasn't going to want to be out of sight of his son for more than five minutes at once for the next few months, possibly even the next year. It would make sleeping arrangements awkward.

"I don't understand what you mean," Adam said. "Why would I have to persuade him?"

"Because he's likely to be very protective of you for awhile."

"Oh," Adam replied, looking down at the board again. "It's your turn."

They played in quiet for awhile, then Adam said, "I miss Phillip, too."

Mekanek gave his prince a grin. "Thanks for telling me." A few minutes later, the game ended as Mekanek pulled his final pieces off the board. Without consulting him, Adam commenced setting the board up for another game. Mekanek smiled and helped get things set up.

As the new game started, Adam began telling him stories, his memories of Phillip, some of them things Mekanek had never heard before. It was as if mentioning his grief over his son's disappearance and death had opened up a door in Adam's thoughts, through which memories poured. It was lovely to hear the boy speak of his son with such affection. No one ever spoke of Phillip, hadn't done in many years. He knew it was because people weren't certain how to discuss the subject with the bereaved father, but there had been times when he'd felt so alone in his grief, so much as if no one else remembered his only son.

Hearing Adam speak about him touched Mekanek deeply, though after awhile, he found himself wondering if Adam was attempting to distract him from the tenor of the conversation. He didn't suppose it mattered much. He didn't want to spend too much time on Adam's emotional state, because Adam would get tired of it and want to stop discussing it. Since Adam had made the change of subject, Mekanek decided to go along with it for now.

It startled him how vivid the boy's memories of Phillip were. After all, Adam had been six when . . . at the time of the fire that claimed Phillip's life. Nevertheless, Adam remembered many things about Mekanek's son.

"He used to play card games with us," Adam said. "That was before Raon was at court much, and most of the other children were older than us and said we were too little for cards." The prince's lips twisted into a wry grin. "We probably were, at that, but Phillip was always willing to let us play with him. And card games always seemed so . . . so grown up."

It made Mekanek feel very good to hear how much Phillip had affected Adam's childhood, and how positively. It was good to know that his life, short as it had been, had nevertheless had an impact on those around him.

Gradually their conversation grew more general, and Mekanek let it flow naturally, figuring that Adam needed that right now, too. Ordinary, unfocused talking could be very good for the spirit. Marlena and Randor, who had relaxed as Mekanek had soothed Adam's worries regarding court, seemed to be engaging in a little conversation themselves.

After a time, Randor stood and started to walk across the room. Adam jumped a little at the sound of the footfalls and turned, the muscles of his shoulders taut as bowstrings. "Where are you going?" he asked, his voice high with tension.

Randor turned and tilted his head. "The privy," he said calmly, though Mekanek could see the worry in his eyes. Marlena, too, was watching with more than a little concern.

Adam's ears turned scarlet, and he turned back to face Mekanek, who had already returned his attention to the board so as not to be noticing the boy's embarrassment. Given the limited options for Randor's movements, it surprised him a little to find Adam so paranoid about his father getting up. On the other hand, everything he'd heard from Duncan indicated that he had developed an intense dependence on Randor.

It was worth noting that Marlena had gotten up earlier and left the room, and Adam, while noticing the fact, had neither objected nor become alarmed. The queen still sat on the sofa, her attention focused on something in her lap, whether a book or some sort of handiwork, Mekanek wasn't sure.

The prince started to play again, but he didn't speak, and Mekanek thought he'd better let him work things out on his own for a bit. Cringer started purring at the Adam's feet, and he bent to scratch his cat's head.

When Randor returned, he walked over to the table and sat down beside Adam who smiled up at his father, despite the faint flush that darkened his cheeks again. "So, how's the game coming?" Randor asked.

"Okay," Adam said.

"He's keeping me on my toes," Mekanek said.

"Really?" Randor asked. "Well, this is a game I've never mastered. I couldn't see the point, since the goal seems to be to lose all your pieces."

"Oh, no," Adam replied. "I think of it as . . . well, say you've got a couple of squads of troops that you've had stationed around an area. It's getting them all home once that area's turned hostile." The prince continued to explain the game in military terms, and Mekanek watched Randor's slow nods of understanding. "You want to keep your guys together as much as possible, because if you leave one alone and he's spotted by your enemy's forces, he'll be captured and you have to focus all your attention on getting him free before you can move anybody further. And nobody can be permitted the safety of the barracks until everyone's accounted for in relatively safe territory."

Randor watched the game progress, and Mekanek watched the pair of them together. If there was any good to come out of this, it would be the renewed closeness between father and son. One hoped it would survive the rigors of a return to normal life for both of them.

Dinner arrived and the five of them ate together, for Dorgan joined them at Marlena's insistence. Just as they were finishing up, there was a knock at the door. Duncan came in without waiting for an answer and walked across to them. "Good evening, all," he said. "How are you, Adam?"

"Well, I'd like it if people who don't like me would stop paying attention to me, but apart from that, I'm fine."

Duncan nodded. "Well, it's good to see you. You were asleep when I came by last night."

Adam grinned suddenly. "Mom stabbed Skeletor!" he said with the first animation he'd shown since speaking of Phillip. "So now both Mom and Dad have forced Skeletor out of Grayskull. If he had any sense he'd just retreat into Snake Mountain and stop trying to bug us."

"Unfortunately, he doesn't appear to have much sense."

"Neither of them does," Adam said. "I mean, I'm in Grayskull. That's not the easiest place in the world for people like them to get into, yet they're both acting like they think they can just pluck me out with no troubles at all."

"Well, they're not the brightest people in the world," Mekanek said. "Or they wouldn't keep after you when you've got He-Man's protection."

"True enough," Randor said, but Adam's eyes grew troubled, and Mekanek wondered why.

"Well, Randor, I have some things I need to discuss with you," Duncan said. "Some things Jenkins brought to my attention."

"Of course," the king said, and Marlena, giving Adam a kiss on the cheek, walked with them over to the sitting area. Adam seemed disinclined to follow.

"Did Duncan tell you all why Skeletor wants me?" Adam asked him after a few moments.

"The thing about your being a well?" The prince nodded. "Yes, he told the masters, at the same time he told us about your suicide attempt."

"Oh," Adam said, looking down at the table. "What did they all say?" he asked.

"They were very upset," Mekanek said.

"Yeah. I'm sure they all think I'm some kind of pathetic idiot."

"Nothing of the kind," Mekanek replied, startled. "Adam, the masters are . . . we've all missed you dreadfully."

"Missed me?" he repeated, shaking his head. "I'm useless. What is there to miss?"

Mekanek was more than a little stunned by this reaction. "Adam, you're one of us. Didn't you know that?"

The boy shrugged. "Well, I know some of you feel that way, but not everyone, surely. I mean, I'm always disappearing when there's real work to be done."

"Adam, when we'd first gotten started looking for Daviona, your mother came to us, to thank us for the efforts we'd put in searching for you, and for what we were about to do." The prince shrugged again. "One of the masters said, 'Adam is one of us. What she did to him, she did to us all.'" Adam stared at him, clearly utterly stunned by this information. "Would you care to guess who said that?"

His eyes were wide with surprise, and he didn't respond.

Mekanek waited a short time and said, "It was Buzz Off, and he was quite serious. You know as well as I do that Buzz Off isn't given to political niceties."

Adam shook his head wonderingly. "No, when Buzz Off says something, he means it." He sat staring into the distance for a moment. "Buzz Off really said that?"

"I wouldn't make something like that up," Mekanek replied.

"No, I wasn't – I didn't mean that," Adam said hastily. He looked down at his hands, and Mekanek wondered what he was thinking. "But . . . don't any of them think I'm overreacting? I mean, I know that some people would think it was a dream come true, to be sexually . . . I mean to say, some men might think I was being silly to react so negatively to Davi's interest in me."

"Anyone who thought that would be a fool, Adam," Mekanek said. "And not one of the masters is that kind of fool." Adam didn't respond, seeming still too startled to know what to say. "You're not useless," Mekanek said. "You serve an important purpose both at the palace and among the masters. You're very good with people, Adam, very good at helping them to see their own strengths and at helping them to get past the inevitable differences of opinion that arise." Mekanek tilted his head thoughtfully. "It's a trait you share with He-Man, though, frankly, I think you're better at it than he is. You know us all better because you're there day in and day out. He-Man is still something of an outsider even with all the help he provides."

"Still," Adam said. "You could get on without me. You've been doing fine in this search for Davi, right? And you all found me."

"We had help in finding you," Mekanek said. "And don't you go thinking of yourself as expendable. Ram-Man was here, the day you . . ." Mek gulped, not wanting to say the words so bluntly aloud. "He gathered us all together, but he didn't tell us what had happened." The recollection of the emotions he had felt at that time was not pleasant. "I was certain you couldn't be dead, Rammy didn't have the right sort of distress for that, but I don't think most of the others know him well enough to recognize that."

"People thought I was dead?" Adam asked, looking stymied. Mekanek permitted himself a small smile. He hadn't thought Adam was the sort of person who thought about how people would react after his suicide. His reasons for suicide didn't encourage that sort of thinking.

"They did. It was devastating." Mekanek paused, pursing his lips. "Losing you would be rather like losing Phillip all over again, not just for me but for everyone."

As he'd expected, this made Adam's eyes go wide and his face go white. The boy hadn't considered too closely what the impact of his death would have been on the court, the other masters, probably not even his family. So caught up in feelings of worthlessness and self-loathing, that the most he had likely even thought of was that they would all be better off without him. Dispelling that notion would go a long way towards heading off future attempts.

The thought, however, and the comparison, were enough to bring tears to Mekanek's eyes. He pulled off his goggles and drew a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it to his eyes. "Mekanek, don't – why are you –" Adam seemed unable to complete his question, but he got up and, moving around the table, he sat down next to Mekanek and put an arm around his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice choked with tears. "I'm sorry."


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

Randor looked up at the sound of Adam's voice raised slightly in distress. He saw that his son had his arm around Mekanek's shoulder, and they both seemed to be crying. Duncan faltered to a stop in his explanation of the issue that Jenkins was concerned about, and looked over his shoulder to follow the direction of the king's gaze.

Marlena put a hand on Randor's knee and tapped Duncan on the hand. "We were discussing the guild conflict." He looked over at her and gestured with his eyes toward Adam and Mekanek. "They seem to be fine, Randor," she said more quietly. "Let's continue our conversation."

He nodded, and Duncan took up the thread again, but Randor kept an eye on the pair at the table. At first it seemed as though Adam were comforting Mekanek, but gradually, the master put his arms around the boy and held him. Adam buried his face on his friend's chest, and Mekanek made soothing noises.

"Randor?" Duncan said. "What do you think?"

The king looked over at his man-at-arms, startled. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying much attention."

"I think Jenkins has the right of it," Marlena said, squeezing her husband's knee. "I think we can safely leave it up to him."

"Well, whatever Marlena thinks is bound to be right," Randor said, looking back over at his son. He dimly heard the other two wrapping up the issue in terms that would satisfy Jenkins. Randor tried to pay attention, but he was so worried about Adam that he found it impossible. What had Mekanek said? What had Adam said?

Duncan touched his arm, and he jumped. "What?"

His friend blinked at him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just distracted," Randor said. "After the attack last night and this morning, I have difficulty not worrying about Adam."

"What happened this morning?" Duncan asked.

Randor sighed. "He asked for weapons to enable him to protect himself. Specifically he asked for his sword."

"And you said no." It wasn't a question, but Randor answered anyway.

"After two suicide attempts, I can't in good conscience allow him any weapon," he said. Duncan nodded, and Randor closed his eyes. "Besides, I don't want him engaging in any kind of battle with someone whose goal is to capture him. I hate to think what would have happened if Adam had rushed Skeletor last night as he seems to think he should have."

Both of the others stared at him in shocked horror. "Rushed him?" Marlena repeated, her face white.

"By the Elders . . ." Duncan shook his head. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him that if he's ever in a position of confronting Skeletor head on like that, he should flee immediately. No stopping and trying to do battle." Randor shuddered. "If Skeletor had gotten his hands on him last night, all he'd have had to do was leave and he'd have had what he wanted in the first place."

No one said anything for a long moment, then Duncan cleared his throat. "I agree," he said. "It will not come easily to him to run, however."

Randor gave him a startled look. _Adam runs from nearly every battle,_ he though perplexedly. _There is something more here that I do not know . . ._

"Regardless, he must," Marlena said. "For we can't permit him weapons –"

"Edged weapons," Dorgan said, walking up and sitting down. "You can't permit him edged weapons. I doubt he'd try to kill himself with a club."

"True," Marlena said dubiously. "But we really do need to encourage him to run."

"I know that," Dorgan replied irritably. "But the boy will fight if he thinks someone else will be hurt if he doesn't, or if he's cornered. Last night, if Marlena had been in the bedroom with you two, it –"

Marlena let out a sound of dismay. "You're right," she said. "I've been glad all day that I fell asleep in the sitting room. If I had been coming from the direction of the bed, I have a feeling things would might worked out quite differently." She shook her head. "I hate to think what would have happened if I hadn't taken him so much by surprise."

"Well, if he'd taken you out as well," Dorgan said, "I would not have been in time to stop him. And Adam –"

"Adam was rummaging in my armor and weapons," Randor said. "He wasn't going to run."

"But if he'd run," Duncan said, "if he'd run, there might have been other problems, because they managed to lower the drawbridge."

"And the conditioning agent –" Dorgan shook his head. "If he'd fled, leaving both his parents helpless and vulnerable to whatever Skeletor might choose to do . . . what would that have done to him?"

"I –" Randor shook his head. "I don't know."

"It would have killed him," Duncan said very quietly. Randor cast a quick glance toward Adam and Mekanek, who seemed to be very focused on their own conversation. "If he left either of you in that state, he wouldn't be able to cope with himself afterwards, no matter whether you had told him to do it or not."

"Then what do we do?" Marlena asked. "I don't want him closing with Skeletor."

"A staff," Duncan said. "I will give him a staff, like Teela's. That will permit him to fight, but it doesn't require him to close with his opponent." Randor started to shake his head – that was still far too close for comfort – but Duncan grimaced at him. "He won't leave you, Randor. He won't, and it's no good you telling him to. He will need a weapon to protect himself should such an eventuality arise."

Randor felt his wife take his hand and squeeze. "Very well," he said. "You're quite right."

"I don't have anything with me," Duncan said. He pursed his lips. "And I must ask permission to take someone off their usual duty to come here and visit with Adam."

"Who?" Randor asked curiously.

"Raon," Man at Arms said. "I thought it might be a good thing for him to have some time off from what he's doing, and I also thought it might be good for Adam to have someone his own age to visit with, someone who knows exactly what he's been through."

"That's a good thought, Duncan," Randor said. "It would no doubt be good for both of them."

Marlena shook her head. "I think we'd better let Raon tell Adam what happened to him, though, or tell him ourselves. Raon will not be able to have a pleasant day with Adam if he's still having to keep that a secret."

Duncan nodded. "And the reasons for keeping it a secret from the boy are no longer relevant since he knows he's a well and he knows that's why Skeletor wants him." He looked into Randor's eyes. "Do you want me to tell him that Adam will already know when he gets here?"

Randor exchanged a look with Marlena, then glanced at Dorgan. "I think that's probably a good idea," he said. "I'll tell him tonight."

They were silent again, and then Duncan stood up. "Well, I think Mek and I had better be heading back."

Looking over his shoulder, Randor saw that Adam and Mekanek had broken apart and were now talking quietly. He stood as well and they walked over to the table. Both Mekanek and Adam stood as they approached, and Adam gave him a hug.

"Thanks for coming, Mek," he said. "You've given me a lot to think about."

"Anytime, Adam," the older man said, resting a hand on the prince's shoulder. "I'm not kidding when I say that you matter a whole lot to a lot of people."

Adam flushed, but he nodded before he looked down at his feet. As Mekanek walked away, Randor put his arm around his son's shoulders. Adam leaned in against his side and watched the others leave.

* * *

Jeclarren finished his push ups and stood up, catching up a towel and wiping his neck with it. Locked into this small space he might be, but he wasn't going to lose his strength if he could help it. Sanviro was still asleep, and Jeclarren suspected that his friend was seeking the only refuge left to either of them. He had his back to the door as he wet the towel and started to wipe his face down with it, so he didn't realize he had an audience until she spoke.

"Very nice." His shoulders tensed as his hands clenched into fists. He leaned against the counter where the sink was and closed his eyes. "Very nice indeed," she said, her voice a caress. He could guess what she meant. With only one set of clothes, he had not wanted to exercise in them, so he had stripped down to his shorts, forgetting that she could peek in on them at any time she chose.

He turned, wondering just how long she'd been there as he'd exercised, his back to the door. He could imagine her standing there for quite awhile, enjoying the movement of his body, and the thought made him feel ill.

"Good morning, sweet thing," she said. "I see your fellow is yet abed. I don't suppose you know how to cook?"

Blinking, Jeclarren opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally, he said, "Cook?"

"Yes," she said with exaggerated patience. "Cook. The art of putting raw ingredients together in a manner pleasing to the palate."

He swallowed. "I know how to cook a little, though not anything fancy. I've taken care of myself most of my life."

"And very good care you've taken," she said, eyeing his form.

He looked away from those avid eyes and tried to pretend she wasn't looking at him. _She's mad, she has to be. And mad people make mistakes. This isn't forever._

"Dress yourself and come to the door," she said, her voice suddenly all business.

After a moment of internal struggle, he followed her instructions. _Don't anger her. She has control for now._ He walked over to the door and waited.

"Hold your hands out."

He lifted his wrists to the window and waited as calmly as he could while she caused the rope to snake inward and bind him. Once he was bound, she led him out of the cell and across the room just outside it, heading on into that hallway down which she'd led him to fetch the games and books and furniture.

"What can you cook?" she asked. "Breakfast foods for now."

"I . . ." He shook his head, more than a little bewildered by these questions. "Eggs, bacon, porridge. Very simple, basic stuff."

"Well, I have the makings for such," she said. "The supplies were laid in over a century ago, but we have eaten all the prepared food that was left behind."

"The food we've been eating is more than a hundred years old?" Jeclarren asked, mildy stunned.

"It has been in stasis," she replied off-handedly. "I have pulled out some staples from the stores. Make breakfast for three."

The door she opened led into a room that was clearly a kitchen. It was a large room, obviously meant for comfort as well as utility. There was a table that could seat six or eight men, and a large stove on the wall opposite the door. On the table were papers, a book and a strange piece of apparatus that he didn't really understand.

She led him across the room to the stove and dropped his hands. "This is the cold store," she said, opening a cupboard that allowed icy chill to wash into the room. Closing it again, she opened another said, "This is where I put the dry staples." He nodded. "And the dishes are in here."

When she had shown him where to find things, she turned to him and looked up into his eyes. "I expect that you probably view this as an opportunity of some kind, for escape, for mayhem against me, but it is not." He could feel a muscle twitching in his jaw, but he remained silent. She reached up and stroked down the line of his jaw, and he forced himself not to pull away. "You are not the first young man to be brought into my service, and you will not be the last. Your position in my household depends greatly on your abilities, which have yet to be tested. But all of my young men have duties apart from the ones that you and Sanviro have been fulfilling thus far."

"Those are duties?" he asked involuntarily.

"Does that disturb you, sweet thing?" she asked. "You are at my service, Jeclarren. Whatever I need of you, you will do. Being my bed partner is no small part of your role, but it is not by any means the only task I have needing done."

He glanced aside from her, not liking that some part of him wanted to agree with her and go along with whatever she asked. _What's wrong with me?_ She dropped her hand from his cheek to his shoulder, the movement calling his attention back to her face.

"Obedience is not so very hard, and isolation is difficult to bear. I have used it as a tool when necessary in the past, and I have seen its results." Her expression was serious and he believed what she said. "It is not pretty, but it is most effective." Her fingers strayed to the bare skin of his neck and he closed his eyes, wishing her gone. "Additionally, if you force me to inflict it upon you, it will fall harder on Sanviro than upon you, for he will not know why it has happened nor whether you will be coming back."

She paused, clearly waiting for some sort of response. He forced the words out past the constriction in the muscles of his throat. "I understand."

"Good," she said, leaning up and kissing him lightly on the lips. He pulled away then, without intending to, but she ignored the movement. "Then, it is time for you to make breakfast." She turned and walked over to the table where she settled down with whatever task she had set herself. Pointing at him, she released the rope bonds from his wrists. As he turned toward the stove and the food cupboards, she spoke again. "Oh, and if you were contemplating killing me, I would not recommend trying." He froze. It was almost as if she had read his thoughts. "You would find it harder than you imagine, and you would not like the consequences of your inevitable failure."

After a few moments, he managed to get himself moving again, and began evaluating his ingredients. As he prepared a simple meal, he tried to remember how many days it had been since they'd been imprisoned by this surprisingly lucid lunatic. It was difficult, for the days had no real markers to them. Each day was much the same as all the rest, and he thought the drugs had some kind of effect on his ability to think clearly. It had been at least a week, though, he thought.

He wondered if anyone was looking for Sanviro. He had family, even if adopted, and people who cared about him. Not that it was likely that anyone in Yalin had the resources to mount the kind of search it would take to find them, but there might yet be people searching for the boy. Whereas his own associates probably simply thought that the itinerant carpenter had elected to move on in search of greener pastures. What they would think when they found his room with all his clothing and tools still there, he didn't know, but it was unlikely anyone would spare him a thought beyond the selling of his belongings to pay for his lodgings.

She muttered as she worked, but he paid little attention, lost in his own miserable thoughts. When he finished making breakfast, he turned and wondered if he should speak. His very stillness must have attracted her attention, for she looked up after a moment and smiled. "Is it ready?" He nodded, not trusting his voice. "Excellent. Please, sit down," she said, gesturing toward a chair. Gulping, he sat, and she magicked restraints around his ankles, binding him to the chair. She then placed one of the plates he'd prepared in front of him with flatware and another bottle of cider. Taking up a tray, she took a similar meal out of the room, presumably to Sanviro.

Jeclarren pushed himself out from the table and bent to his legs to see if he could free himself, but this wasn't rope. It was some kind of energy, and when he touched his hands to it, he felt a strange tingling. Frustrated, he turned his attention to his plate and ate his breakfast. Neither escape nor the murder of their captor would be a possibility if he failed to keep himself fed.

She returned within moments, collected her own plate and settled down to eat. He was mildly surprised that she had fed them first. She had very much struck him as the sort to worry first about herself and leave others as seconds. _Maybe she cares more than she shows,_ suggested a treacherous part of his mind. He set his teeth firmly. _Or maybe she wants me to think that. Or maybe she just wasn't hungry yet._

When he had finished, he sat quietly, waiting for further instruction. He didn't particularly want to draw her attention to him by speaking, and he had nothing else to do. She looked up after a few moments and gestured. The bonds on his ankles vanished. "Now, make something for lunch and dinner. I have a way of storing it so that it will be fresh when the time comes." He nodded, and she reached out and touched his hand. He met her eyes automatically. "And you won't be up to cooking it later."

He pulled his hand away and rubbed it, then returned to the cupboards. Searching out foods, he started cooking again. _Is there anyone who would actually like this? To whom this would seem a blessing?_ He shook his head and tried not to think too hard. The self-pity he'd indulged in earlier seemed stupid and pointless, and he wanted to avoid it. For one thing, self-pity led too easily into despair, and in despair he feared Daviona's efforts would take sure root.

He was chopping up some sausage to use in a casserole when he missed and the knife sliced his finger. Or rather, it should have sliced his finger, but the blade, which had passed easily through the tough skin of the sausage, slid off his finger without making the smallest impression. Looking back warily, he saw that Daviona was focused on her own work, so he made a quick test of his discovery. Laying the blade against his finger, he tried to slice through the skin, and once again, it failed to cut. It felt as if he were pressing something smooth and not at all sharp against his skin.

He had wondered, when he saw the knives, why she had been so rash as to give him access to weapons, but if the blades would not cut human skin, they were no more than blunt objects. Sighing, he returned to cutting sausage and trying to keep his mind empty of thought.

She had started muttering again, but now that his own thoughts weren't preventing him from hearing them, her words penetrated and made sense.

"I could halve the time any of these wretched spells would take if I only had Adam!"

_Adam? Adam who?_ Jeclarren kept working, now slicing tomatoes.

"But of course, I need to do these spells to secure Adam. It's a vicious circle." He worked and kept his ears open, realizing that he should have done that before. Who knew what he might have learned if he'd been paying attention earlier. "Damn, I'm going to run short of ogroba root before long," she said. "And going out isn't the best of options just now. Not with this bloody search."

_Search? I was right! Someone is looking for her._ He truly hoped she wouldn't notice that his attention was now focused on her, though it wasn't as if he could do anything with the knowledge he gained this way.

"Six drams of . . ." He heard a scratching sound that suggested she was writing as her words tapered off. "And four pints of caflianc. That should be enough till I can risk a supply run." He heard her flip through pages. "When the time comes, Randor is going to discover whole new worlds of pain. I've been meaning to explore that more thoroughly, and he will make a perfect test subject."

Jeclarren froze briefly, then forced himself not to behave stupidly, dropping the cut tomatoes into a bowl and reaching for a couple of tubers. _Randor? Could . . . the combination of those two names . . . she couldn't mean Prince Adam, could she?_ He shook his head. _Probably no connection. It's not as if either of those names is all that uncommon._

"I need more sources of power," she muttered. "But I daren't go and fetch them. The Ancients only know how far those rumors the king's men are spreading about me have reached at this point. All I need is for some idiot boy to announce that I'm a plague bearer loudly in a tavern somewhere."

Jeclarren managed to conceal his reaction better this time, but now it was definite. She was talking about the king, and that meant she was talking about the prince. _How old is the prince again? And why would she want him in particular? He'd be an awfully dangerous person to abduct, I would think. And what has she got planned that would enable her to introduce the king to 'whole new worlds of pain'?_ None of it made sense.

"Once I have Adam back, though, once he is bound to me, I will no longer have to worry about such petty concerns as Randor or Skeletor."

_Petty concerns?_ Jeclarren mixed the meat and vegetables together and buried them under a layer of cheese, then opened the oven and placed the pot inside, then started work on an evening meal. _The king and the master of Snake Mountain are 'petty'? What in the hell . . . ?_

After seasoning them with salt and pepper, he put three cuts of meat with three potatoes in the oven next to the casserole and prepared a salad of greens for their dinner. As he began to cut the vegetables for the salad, part of what she had said sunk in. _Once she has Adam back? When did she have him before? She had him before . . ._

And it all fell into place. The search was for a woman who had held the prince captive. And if Daviona had ever had hold of a young man, Jeclarren would lay odds that she'd . . . used him, the way she was using both him and Sanviro, and he was sure that the prince was pretty young. He found himself shaking with suppressed rage at the thought of some fifteen-year-old boy in her clutches.

For awhile after that her muttering was completely meaningless to him, references to magic, he thought, but not to anything he recognized. He cleaned up the tools he had used, and the plates he and Daviona had eaten off of while he waited for the food to cook. Then he started looking through the cupboards and wondered how much cooking he was going to wind up doing.

By the time the casserole was done, however, her thoughts had clearly wound around to her future plans again. "I must have Adam's power. With that, I will be able to achieve anything I desire." Jeclarren set the casserole down on the top of the stove and carefully closed the oven. Dinner was already tucked away in the cupboard, so he opened the door again and placed the final dish within. She was paying him no heed as he worked. He put his hands flat on the countertop and closed his eyes, willing himself not to imagine some poor, undoubtedly sheltered child in this woman's grasp. What power could she mean? If she wanted political power, the king would be a better choice, surely. And what did Skeletor have to do with anything?

Unaware of his thoughts or his questions, Daviona continued speaking. "He is mine, and I will have him!"

_Over my dead body._

* * *

_Please let me know if you enjoy the story and let me know if you don't. Reviews keep the author going. As one of my favorite writers says frequently, "Please feed the author."_


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

Adam got out of bed very quietly, used the privy, and went into the sitting room. He wasn't sure he'd actually avoided waking both his parents, but if he had, at least they had pretended to be asleep.

He went and sat down on the sofa, wishing he knew what to think. He had dreamed of Phillip, first of times when he was very small, and the three of them, Phillip, Teela and he, had played together, but it was followed by a decidedly odd dream. He was his own age, but Phillip still looked twelve. He hadn't sounded twelve, though, when he'd yelled at Adam for making his father cry.

It required some thought. For one thing, the Phillip in his dream knew quite a number of words that he was fairly certain that the real Phillip hadn't known. Or if he had, he'd certainly kept quiet about them. Adam knew he wasn't given to dreams like the Sorceress had, so he had a feeling that it had been his subconscious telling him off in no uncertain terms.

When he was thinking clearly, Adam knew he didn't want to be dead. Death wasn't something you could take back or undo, and the bandage on his arm made him feel both ashamed and slightly frightened. He had come so close, and if his father had been a few moments later, they might not have been able to save him. He hadn't even considered what effect his death would have on his friends, though he'd been certain that his parents would have been better off without him. In past times, when he'd read about someone who'd either committed or attempted suicide, he'd had no patience with their reasons. Now he understood, and he wished he didn't.

Because, though he most definitely didn't want to die, there was a persistent voice in his mind telling him how much easier it would be to be dead and past all of these concerns. An insidious voice that also told him that he was worthless. _Death would be so easy . . ._

"Absolutely not!" he snarled, clenching his fists and thumping them down on his thighs.

"Absolutely not what?" Dorgan asked as he entered the room.

Adam looked up, startled. "Nothing," he said, looking down at his hands.

Dorgan walked across and looked under the cover at a tray of food on the table. "It didn't sound like nothing," he said. "Breakfast?"

Ignoring the thoughts that this was pointless and that he wasn't hungry, Adam stood up and walked over to the table. "Sure." He wasn't, in fact, hungry, but he had a strong feeling that this fact had more to do with his emotions than with his body.

Sitting down, he lifted the cover off the tray and put it aside, applying himself with diligence to the food. It was very good, but he still wasn't hungry.

"So, what were you denying so firmly?" Dorgan asked after a few minutes.

Adam sighed. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"I can see that," Dorgan replied. "But what was it?"

He shook his head. "I just keep having thoughts I don't like," he said. "Which sounds nuts, but it's really frustrating."

"Thoughts like what?" Dorgan asked.

"You wouldn't like them."

"Well, I doubt I would if you don't like them so much. But a burden shared is sometimes halved, so why don't you tell me about them?"

Adam studied the omelet on his plate for a moment, and then cleared his throat. "I keep thinking how much easier it would be to be dead," he said, then waited for the explosion he was sure would follow. When none did, he looked up at Dorgan's face in surprise.

The healer looked serious certainly, but not angry as Adam hald half-expected. "That's not at all surprising," he said after a moment, gazing into Adam's eyes.

"It's not?"

"Not at all. You're going through a very unpleasant time with very disturbing emotions and physical responses." Dorgan pursed his lips. "Change is difficult when it's something you want. Your life has been turned topsy-turvy in a way that no one would choose." Adam nodded, clinging to these words. "Death often seems appealing at such times because it offers surcease from change."

"But I don't want to be dead," Adam protested. "So why do I keep thinking about it?"

"Because you're unhappy, and you want to stop being unhappy." Dorgan gave him a very penetrating look. "And the alternative to death is to suffer through the troubles until things are better again, and that isn't easy."

"I just want my life back," Adam groaned, looking back down at his food.

"Of course you do –"

"But it will never be the same," he said. "I'm not me anymore – I don't know who I am." Shaking his head, he slumped in the chair. "I keep wanting to tell people I'm not broken, but I feel broken inside. Shattered into strangely shaped pieces that aren't fitting back together again."

Dorgan was silent for a moment, then he said, "No, it will never be the same, that's true. And I don't think you're broken. I think your spirit has been battered a bit, but that you will come out of this whole and healthy again."

"You really think so?" Adam leaned forward.

The healer raised an eyebrow at him. "Would I say it if I didn't think it, boy?" he grumbled. "Of course I do."

Adam bit his lip. This was more than he had hoped to hear anyone say. "But . . . how do I make these thoughts go away?"

"They will go away on their own as time passes," Dorgan replied. Adam sighed. He didn't want to hear that. "For the moment, the best you can do is crowd them out with other things. And tell us when they start to get overwhelming." Adam nodded and looked down at his food again, but Dorgan reached across the table and caught his shoulder firmly. "Adam, listen to me. There is no one here who does not value you. And we would _not_ be better off without you, or happier if you were gone, or any of the things you may have thought."

"I know that, when I'm thinking clearly. But I'm not always able to think." Adam hunched, wishing he could pull his knees up but the chair and the table didn't make that possible. "Like the other night. I wasn't thinking at all, I was reacting. Or . . . once my emotions got involved, they were controlling the direction of my thoughts."

"And what were you reacting to?" Dorgan asked.

Adam bit his lip. "It sounds stupid," he said, but Dorgan just waited expectantly. "Something my father said sounded . . . I thought it was . . ."

"Not your thinking, Adam. Not analysis. What did you feel?"

"Lonely," Adam said abruptly. "Unwanted and useless. You didn't want me to help with Orko, Father wanted things to be normal again, and I just felt like I was . . . not only had I caused all the problems everyone was having, but I couldn't begin to help solve them."

"I was unnecessarily brusque on that occasion, and I apologize," Dorgan said.

Adam shook his head. "No, you were pretty normal, I was just being overly sensitive." He grimaced. "And I never know when that will happen, or what will set it off."

"It will get less as time goes by," Dorgan said.

"Time," Adam repeated. "Always back to time. It's going to take time for me to heal."

"I know it isn't easy," the healer said, "and I know I don't know the half of it. Just remember, I'm here if you need to talk and don't feel comfortable to tell your father something." The old man grinned. "And I'll try to keep the sarcasm to a minimum."

Adam chuckled and Dorgan raised a curious eyebrow at the sound. "No, Dorgan, you'd better not," the prince said. "After all, if you stopped being sarcastic, I'd know there was something really wrong with me."

Dorgan made a face and laughed a little at himself. They were eating amicably and discussing the weather and weather related injuries when Adam's father emerged. The king looked more than a little frantic as he scanned the room, and tension seemed to flow out of him when he saw Adam. "Are you all right, son?" he asked, walking over to the table and sitting down.

"I'm fine," Adam said. "Are you okay?"

"I just – when I woke up, you weren't anywhere and it –" Adam dropped his eyes. "It frightened me," his father said.

"I'm sorry, I should have –"

"No, Adam, don't apologize. You did nothing wrong."

"I alarmed you," Adam said. "I shouldn't have gotten up –"

His father caught his chin and made him look up. "You did nothing wrong, Adam." The interaction, though brief was intense and Adam could feel himself absorb some of his father's certainty that he hadn't acted inappropriately. After a short time, the moment passed. Randor smiled and said, "I came out here first thing, so if you two will excuse me, I'd better go clean up."

Adam managed to get his brain working again, and he grinned up at his dad. "Please," he said impishly. "And thank the Elders."

His father paused in the act of turning away and raised an eyebrow. "Thank the Elders?"

"Well, how was I supposed to tell my father the king that he needed a bath?" His father's eyes widened, and for a moment Adam thought he was angry, but then he started laughing.

A voice cut across the king's laugher. "You could always do what I've done in the past," the queen said, smiling broadly.

"Marlena . . ." his father said warningly, but his mother didn't seem to be worried.

"I've found a bucket of water dumped over his head gives him the hint quite nicely."

Adam watched, biting his lip with amusement, as his mother walked up. His father was glaring at her, but Adam felt certain that he wasn't really upset. Indeed, just as she reached him, his father caught her around the waist and gave her a kiss.

Averting his eyes hastily, Adam felt his skin grow cold and his stomach grow chill. His parents had always been affectionate, and it had never bothered him before, apart from the time during his early adolescence when he'd thought it embarrassing. Now, however, he shuddered as invisibly as possible and tried to get his twisting gut under his control. _Damn Daviona for planting little emotional traps all through my mind!_

He looked up in surprise when a hand closed over the fist he'd clenched on the table. It was Dorgan, and his eyes were full of sympathy. Adam managed to remain normal while his parents talked briefly with him, then, when they went back into the bedroom, he pushed his plate aside and collapsed into his folded arms on the table. Dorgan was up and beside him instantly, putting his arm around Adam's shoulder. "It will pass, Adam," he said softly. "It will pass."

"When?" Adam groaned into his arms. He looked up. "Don't tell them. It would be terrible for them to think they – I mean I'd hate for them to start and then stop."

"Actually, the more you see it, the less you will react. It's a process called desensitization."

"Really?" Adam asked. Warm pressure against his legs made him look down and he saw Cringer looking up at him. He scratched his cat on the head while he considered this suggestion of Dorgan's. A plan formed as he finished his breakfast, and when his parents emerged, he was ready to put it into practice, though he decided that it would be polite to wait until they'd eaten breakfast first.

When they'd all moved over to the sitting area, Adam sat straight and looked at his parents, who seemed to pick up that he had something specific to say. "Yes, Adam?" his mother said.

"Um . . ." He dithered for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to say this. "When you two kiss, it . . . um . . . it makes me uncomfortable."

"Oh, Adam!" his mother exclaimed, looking stricken. "I didn't – I never –"

He shook his head. "No, that's not – just listen, please?" They nodded, both of them looking upset. "But Dorgan says that I need to get used to it. That I'll stop being so uncomfortable as time passes." Adam darted a glance at the healer who seemed oddly blank of expression at the moment. He didn't try to puzzle out why, however, and just forged on ahead. "He called it desensitization, and I guess it's better the more exposure I get. So, I need you to kiss. In front of me." They were staring, their eyes wide. "A lot," he went on, trying to get through to them. "As much as possible. So could you? Kiss? I mean, we have a couple of hours to kill." His father's jaw dropped open and his mother blinked repeatedly. "Now, please?"

His mother made a strange, strangled sound, and his father started to splutter. Before he'd gotten more than, "I can't – What do you –" out, his mother burst into peals of laughter. Adam stared in a mixture of confusion, astonishment and dismay.

"Mom? What's funny?"

At that moment, Dorgan's expression, which had grown more blank with every word Adam had uttered, cracked, and he started howling with laughter.

Adam looked back and forth among the three of them, baffled, though slowly he began to realize just how ludicrous his suggestion had to have sounded.

His father turned to his mother. "Honestly, Marlena! How can you be so –" She just shook her head, laughing so hard that there were tears in her eyes. "Marlena!" She just laughed all the harder, and Dorgan nearly fell out of his chair.

Their hilarity was contagious, and Adam felt mirth bubbling up in his chest. He tried, in the face of his father's outraged perplexity, to control it, but when his mother fell over on her side on the sofa, giggling, he lost the struggle and burst out with laughter.

"Adam!" his father exclaimed, and that popped the bubble immediately.

Adam's eyes widened and he stared at his father in alarm. "I'm sorry –" he started, but before he got more than the first syllable out, his father shook his head.

"No, Adam, it's fine."

He was still uncertain until his father reached out suddenly and started tickling his mother. She let out a shriek and sat up, and Adam stared in complete befuddlement as his father continued to tickle. Adam started to giggle, he couldn't help it, and then his mother snatched up a cushion from the sofa and thumped his father across the face with it.

The king sat astounded for a moment, the seized a cushion himself. They started to pummel one another with pillows while Adam watched in bemusement. Dorgan walked forward, his shoulders shaking, and tried to separate them, only to get smacked by one of the wildly waving pillows.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "I'm old!"

Randor turned to him and hit him on purpose. "Not that old, old man!"

Dorgan seized another pillow and retaliated. Adam was amazed to see this usually sober group of adults acting like children. Then his mother caught sight of him, and a pillow came flying toward him. He ducked, so it bounced off the top of his head, but he was galvanized to action.

Grabbing up the pillow that had been aimed for him, he waded into the fray.

Laughing and roughhousing, they continued to play until two things happened at once. One of the pillows burst a seam, sending goose down flying everywhere, and the door opened behind them.

They all turned to look and saw Duncan and Raon standing in the doorway with a hail of white feathers falling between them. Cringer leapt up and caught as many feathers as he could, then landed heavily. As soon as he was on the floor, he jumped up again and snatched more out of the air.

Both Raon and Duncan's eyes were open as wide as they could be and they were staring. Abruptly, the rain of feathers stopped and six more pillows appeared, ready to hand. Cringer looked around, white fluff in his mouth and under his paws, looking bereft.

Adam collapsed onto the sofa, out of breath. Duncan looked utterly stunned, which made the prince giggle hysterically. His mother thumped down onto the sofa next to him while his father walked across to greet their visitors. Dorgan simply leaned against the end of the sofa, breathing heavily while Cringer kept looking for more feathers.

He ducked his head under the sofa, then ran around behind, trying to find the flying objects. Adam picked up a pillow and held it across his face to keep from laughing, knowing that Cringer would be deeply offended by it if he did.

Abruptly, there was a new rain of feathers, and Cringer jumped into the air gleefully, catching them on their way down.

For a moment, they all stared, transfixed, then everyone started laughing. Adam leaned helplessly against his mother, and he could see that Duncan and his father were leaning against one another and Raon had his hand covering his mouth.

Adam looked up, startled, when he heard a feminine chuckling in his head, but it didn't look as if anyone else had heard her. _"I shall have to provide Cringer with some additional means of entertaining himself, I think,"_ she said softly, and Adam laughed.

"Sounds like a great idea to me," he replied, grinning.

A brilliant light flashed into existence at the same moment that the feathers disappeared again. It was a very small ball of red light that didn't stay in one spot for an instant, and Cringer immediately went still, staring at it. His tail flickered, and his head darted sharply back and forth as he followed the movements of the light, which danced around the room. When it took off away from him, Cringer chased after it, trying desperately to catch it. Adam watched happily, enjoying his pet's antics.

Eventually, he turned his attention to his guests, and smiled at Duncan and Raon.

"Good morning, Adam," Duncan said. "I brought something for you." He walked over and held out a small cylindrical object. Adam took it and looked close, realizing after a moment that it was a staff like the one Teela used. He looked over at his father, confused.

"I forgot to tell you last night when we were talking, we all discussed it and decided that you needed a weapon."

He took the staff in his hand and bit his lip. "You know, I don't think you have to worry about suicide anymore," he said. They all looked at him, startled by the sudden change in subject. He kept his eyes focused on the staff. "Mekanek gave me some things to think about last night, and laid on a really thick guilt trip."

"What did he say?"

Adam shrugged. "I don't really want to talk about it, but it was effective."

None of them said anything until Raon cleared his throat. "It's really good to see you," he said.

Adam smiled. "So, has anything interesting happened at the palace lately?" Raon shrugged, and the prince nudged him. "Come on, I'm missing out on everything." His friend grinned and they started to talk.

Just then, Cringer came bounding by, thundering across the floor, in hot pursuit of the ball of light. Adam threw his head back and laughed loudly. He hadn't seen Cringer in such good spirits for some time.

* * *

The door shut firmly behind him and Jeclarren stood for a moment, unable to move further. He was utterly worn out, his muscles were trembling, and he felt more than a little ill. She had been relentless, and the constant activity was telling on him.

She had taken Sanviro first this afternoon, so he hadn't been there to aid the boy when he returned from his own ordeal. Jeclarren took a deep breath and looked around for him just as Sanviro put an arm around his shoulders. "It's my turn," he said inexplicably, leading Jeclarren to the cot that stood against the wall.

"Are you all right?" Jeclarren asked the younger man.

"I'm . . . I'm fine," Sanviro said, sounding remarkably well.

Jeclarren looked at him in surprise. "You are?"

Sanviro shrugged, giving him half a grin. "No more so than usual, but you've been so incredibly good to me, I thought it was only right to return the favor."

Leaning against the wall, Jeclarren smiled at him. "I haven't done anything unusual," he said.

"You've behaved in every way like a brother to me," Sanviro declared. "No brother could be kinder or more attentive."

"Dinner," called that hated feminine voice from the doorway.

"Stay here," Sanviro said and then crossed to the door to collect the plates. Jeclarren stood slowly.

She was watching him, and she said, "You will both toughen up as time goes by, and once . . . well, soon I won't have need of quite so much from you."

Jeclarren ignored her entirely, walking over to the table and sitting down. He listened to the door open and close as she handed the food in and tried to figure out what she could mean. _What is she doing to us?_ Sanviro put the plates and bottles on the table, and Jeclarren glanced up to see where Daviona was. She was still watching, so he turned away, his shoulders stiffening. Sanviro sat down with him, and they began to eat.

Maybe Sanviro was right, and there was something to his theory that she was draining life force from them. He looked up again. Through the window in the door he could see her walking away. When she was gone, he looked over at his friend. "Are you completely exhausted?" he asked.

Sanviro looked up. "As always," he said, and Jeclarren saw that his muscles appeared to be shaking as well, though less than Jeclarren's at this point. "I really think she's got to being doing something strange. I mean, does it usually –" The boy flushed. "I've never done it before, so I'm not sure what's normal and what's not."

"Well, it's not normal to do it that many times at once," Jeclarren said firmly. "I'm not terribly experienced myself, but this is entirely bizarre. And I know that she should be just as tired as we are, if not more so since she's so much more active. There must be some form of magic involved, something that she's doing."

"But it can't be that vampiric aging thing," Sanviro said. "Because we're not aging."

"Perhaps she's simply absorbing our normal energy, and that's what's leaving us so weary," Jeclarren said. "I don't know the first thing about how magic works, but that makes some sense to me."

Sanviro nodded disconsolately. "Did you make this, too?" he asked after a moment. Jeclarren nodded. "It's good."

Jeclarren tried to think things through. If he was right, if she was simply drawing out the energy that was normally in them, then why would she not need so much from them? Was it something to do with Prince Adam? She'd said she wanted his power . . . was he unusual in some way?

He wanted to discuss this with Sanviro, but he didn't dare. He was afraid of alarming Daviona into separating them, and he wasn't sure how well he would cope if he was left alone. He had a feeling, however, that Prince Adam wasn't the only answer to the question of why she wouldn't need them as much. The kitchen, that recreation room, this entire facility, was designed for more than three or four people. He suspected that Daviona intended to bring more young men in, more 'sources of energy.' She coudn't now, because of the search, but she would as soon as she could.

And that scared him, because if she did that, it would be because he hadn't had the courage to fight her, to kill her despite what it would mean for Sanviro and him.

He lapsed into silence. When Sanviro finished his dinner, he stood up, squeezed Jeclarren's shoulder and said, "You'd better get some sleep, my brother."

"I will," he replied. He looked up with more than a little astonishment at Sanviro. "I will, my brother."

The boy went to bed, and Jeclarren walked over to the second cot and sat down, dimming the lights. _I have a brother now,_ he thought in wonderment. Sighing, he curled up on his side, coming to a decision. He would not take action now, because there were people searching for her. If the king's son had been taken by Daviona, then the king knew what she was, and what she would do. If they were found by the king's men, it was not likely that they would be put to death out of hand.

But if Daviona took anyone else, Jeclarren would see that her days were numbered.

* * *

Days passed, and Randor watched as Adam grew more comfortable and confident. The nightmares didn't pass, but they lessened in frequency, and he had fewer instances of crushing emotional desolation. The daily visitors helped a lot, and Adam seemed more and more cheerful as time went by.

They were spending a lot of time together, as well, and Randor felt as if he were getting to know his son again, which was a blessing.

Right now, Adam was standing by the windows, most definitely agitated. "What's wrong, son?" he asked, walking up behind him.

"I'm feeling a bit of cabin fever," Adam said. "I want to go outside."

Randor bit his lip. Adam had been inside for more than two weeks now, and much of that inside Grayskull, so it wasn't surprising that he'd be feeling a little closed in. Nevertheless, Randor was leery of letting him outside the castle. There hadn't been any attacks for several days now, and the king was of the opinion that their enemies had given up on trying to extract his son from Grayskull. But once he was outside Grayskull again, all bets were off.

"I know, dear," Marlena said, walking over to the window and sitting down on the sill, catching Adam's hand. "But there's still so much danger."

Adam shook his head and looked out. "There's never going to be any less danger," he said, his hand falling to rest on the staff on his hip.

Randor nodded, looking out over the countryside himself. He and Adam had done some sparring over the last few days, getting Adam used to his new weapon. That had at least gotten the boy out of the suite and into one of the larger halls so they'd have space to work out.

He'd been pleasantly surprised by Adam's skill, and it made him wonder anew about Adam's behavior during battle. He was sure now that there were reasons why Adam ran, and an inkling about why was stirring in the back of his mind. He hadn't puzzled it out yet, but he was giving it time to develop.

"I know that, Adam, but . . ." Marlena trailed off, looking up at Randor.

"It's something we'll have to discuss. For one thing, we don't know how well the Sorceress thinks the shield she put on you will hold up."

"She hasn't been in for awhile, has she?" Adam said thoughtfully. "And when are we going to do the next treatment? I'm still nowhere near back to normal." Randor and Marlena exchanged a look and Adam sighed. "Are we waiting for something specific?"

"Actually, yes we were," Dorgan said, walking up. "We were waiting for you to ask about it, because that would be a sure sign that you were ready."

Adam stared at the healer in apparent astonishment. "You were waiting for me to ask?"

"Things have been so calm and relaxed for the last few days that we didn't want to bring it up," Marlena said.

"Besides," Dorgan said, "you have less of the substance in your system than you probably think. You lost a lot of blood . . . a few days ago, and the blood I replaced it with was fresh and clean, so we thought it was safe to let you go a little longer without another treatment."

"So, does that mean we're going to do it now?" Adam asked quietly.

"If Orko's available, tomorrow. That is something we do have to do here, because Orko will need the Sorceress' support when he's done."

Adam turned his back on the view and sat down, his expression pensive. "So, we do the treatment tomorrow, then I'll need another day to recover. After that what?"

"_After that, we will test your shield and then your parents, your healer and I will discuss your condition and determine whether or not you are ready to return to the palace."_

Adam looked up, and Randor smiled at the look on his face. "I can go home?" he asked hopefully, and Randor had to conceal his pleasure at this change. It hadn't been so very long since that though had made Adam extremely nervous. It was good to see him looking pleased by the notion.

"We shall see," Dorgan said. "But in the meantime, I will ask the Sorceress to find out if Orko will be free tomorrow."

"_He is,"_ the Sorceress said without a pause. _"And eager to be of assistance. He also may have found a solution to the conditioning drug, but we don't know for certain yet."_

"That would be great!" Adam said, looking up, his eyes shining.

"Will it require the same treatment?" Marlena asked.

"_We don't know yet. Orko has to talk about it with Dorgan. But we do have hopes that it will be simpler."_

"I don't care!" Adam declared fervently. "Whatever it takes. I want to be normal!"

Marlena squeezed his hand. "You must remember, it won't be –"

Adam shook his head. "I know it won't make everything go away, but it will return my body to its normal state, and I can go on from there."

"Very true," Dorgan said.

Randor grimaced and didn't say anything, not wanting to detract from Adam's happiness, but his eyes darted immediately to the capital letter D that had been branded into his son's arm, an hourglass within. He had checked, and similar brands occupied the upper right arms of all the young men they had rescued from Daviona, including the young boys.

Adam's caught the movement of his eyes, and, reaching up with his left hand, he fingered the smooth shape that had been burned into his skin. "Well, almost normal," he said, an odd look in his eyes. "And I'm still not aging. Sorceress, have you worked out anything for that?"

"_Not yet, Adam,"_ she said, and Randor looked away, out the window.

"I'm already tired of being sixteen, and I still haven't hit my seventeenth birthday," he said, his tone full of humor, but everyone present knew him well enough to see the distress he was attempting to conceal.

"_We will work something out,"_ she said reassuringly. _"If nothing else turns up before then, I could magically age you on your birthday. Bring you to exactly seventeen."_

Adam raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Is that possible?" Before she could answer, he shook his head. "No, of course it is, you wouldn't say it if it wasn't. I suppose it beats being sixteen for the next few years until we work out a solution."

Marlena reached up and squeezed Randor's hand behind Adam's back. Their son still hadn't stopped fingering the brand on his arm, so the king decided it was time for a change in subject. "Well, Adam, you were reading through those land cases from a century ago yesterday. What do you think?"

They fell into a discussion of land and property rights until Mekanek and Ram-Man arrived. Ram-Man hadn't been there on a simple visit yet, so Adam jumped up and showed him around the suite. Randor caught Mekanek's arm as Adam took Rammy into the bedroom and guided the long-necked master over to the window seat.

"Yes, sire?" Mekanek said, giving him a curious look.

"I have a question for you, Mek," he replied, "and I'd really appreciate a candid answer."

Mekanek pursed his lips. "I will try, your highness. What is it?"

"What guilt trip did you lay on Adam?"

The master looked perplexed. "Guilt trip?" he asked. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Randor sighed and leaned back against the wall. "When you came to visit, Adam told us the next day that you had said something that made suicide highly unlikely, and he told us it was a guilt trip."

"Oh, yeah," Mekanek said in tones of comprehension. "I see." However, he did not elaborate. Marlena had walked up at this point and was standing next to her husband, one hand on her hip.

"So what did you say, Mekanek?" she asked firmly.

The master looked down at his hands and then looked up, seeming faintly embarrassed. He shrugged. "I just told him the truth about how people would feel about his dying." Randor knit his brows together. What could he mean? "I told him that it would be like losing Phillip all over again."

Randor's eyes widened. "What?" he demanded, shocked by the thought that Mekanek had loaded such a burden onto Adam. "You told him . . . you . . . how could you give him such a –"

"Good," Marlena said, pressing a hand down on Randor's shoulder and silencing him. "He said you'd given him something to think about, and I thank you. Giving the abstract notion a familiar face seems to have been exactly what he needed."

Mekanek shrugged again. "Yeah, I thought it would be." There were lines of pain around his mouth. "Look, if you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about this a lot. I've been thinking about Phillip frequently lately, and I'm finding –" He broke off, looking out the window, and Randor felt a little guilty for is own annoyed reaction.

"Of course, Mekanek. It can't have been easy for you to discuss it."

The master looked up. "Not his death, no, but it was a delight talking to Adam about Phillip." There was a broad smile on Mek's face suddenly, but Randor suspected that there were tears lurking behind Mekanek's goggles. "I had no idea he remembered him so well."

Marlena nodded. "He and Teela were very fond of Phillip."

Adam and Ram-Man came back into the sitting room at that moment, and Adam said, "Father, would you like to do some sparring with Mek and Rammy? It might be good for both of us."

"Sounds like an excellent notion, son," Randor said, clapping Mekanek on the shoulder.


	38. Chapter 38

****

Chapter 38

Teela was buried up to her neck in books. They had recruited three scholars from the university to help with the research, and the five of them were making progress of sorts, if one could call eliminating possibilities progress. Teela would have much preferred to be making positive progress rather than negative.

They had not eliminated the research regarding the Tronak region, reasoning that if they found references to Daviona there, they might be able to use that information in their continuing inquiries elsewhere. Teela was frustrated and bored, and she knew that was a dangerous combination for this sort of activity. She was about to call for a break when she realized abruptly what she was looking at.

It was an announcement of abandoned property to be sold by the city council of Bergeford – together with a declaration that the prior owner was legally dead according to custom. The prior owner was listed as one Darien Maliston, who had disappeared some sixty years earlier at the age of twenty. There was a very full description of the circumstances leading to the abandonment. Darien was the last of his family, with no relatives near enough in blood to be his inheritors. He had become enamored of a local woman, and, closing his house up, had gone with her on some sort of trip from which they'd never returned. People had been sent out to attempt to locate them, or at least to discover what had become of Darien, but the attempt had met with no success. There was appended a brief summary of the life of the woman in question, who was described as being a wizardess of minor powers in her mid-thirties. The author of the report had evidently been no fan of the woman, calling her a beautiful seductress who had lured the boy away to some awful fate. Teela was inclined to believe them, however, for the woman's name was listed as Daveona Rumis.

She stared for a moment, then looked up to remind herself of just how old this text was, and the yip of delight she'd been about to let loose faded on her lips. According to this, her disappearance had taken place four hundred and seventy-three years ago.

Hands trembling, she fumbled her com unit off her belt. "Teela to Man-at-Arms?"

Her father's voice crackled over the unit immediately. "Yes, Teela."

"Father, come here. I've found something."

The others had all looked up at her voice, and now they stared at her. "We need to find the birth records for the city of Bergeford from . . ." She looked at the date and did some quick calculations. "From five hundred years ago, and ten years to either side."

Nalineph got to his feet and walked around behind her to read over her shoulder. "Broaden that a trifle. From four hundred and eighty years ago to five hundred and fifty years ago."

There was a scrambling as the releveant records were found, and then all five of them chose a decade and started searching for Daveona Rumis.

Nalineph had just found the relevant reference and was reading it aloud as her father came in.

"Born to Thomir Rumis on his wife Malea, a girl child of seven pounds, eight ounces. Lusty in voice, and very healthy, named Daveona." He bit his lip for a moment. "So, if this is actually her, she's five hundred and eight years old. Next month she'll be five hundred and nine."

One of the scholars, a man called Derward, said, "Well, then, let's see . . ." He pulled out some other records and started flipping through. "Aha, just at the right time. Here is Daveona Rumis on the roster of the local school five years later." He kept flipping forward in time. "She's on the roster every year for the next seven years, and then it states that she's being sent to a master for proper training in the arts of wizardry. Hell!"

"What?" Teela asked, leaning up, trying to see what Derward was looking at.

"Here's a description of the events leading to that, and I think we may have our woman indeed. 'When Daveona would become enraged, things would fly about the room. Her long brown hair would stand out from her head, curls pulled straight by the energy filling her. The normal color of her eyes would be eclipsed by a glowing green light. We could not keep her in the school any longer, it was terrifying the other students and we had nothing more to teach her besides.'"

There was silence for a moment, then Teela's father spoke up. "Are there any sort of records regarding the courses the children took? And how well they did in them?"

Derward flipped through. "Not really. There are rosters, but nothing very specific, I'm afraid."

Elira, another of the scholars, was sorting rapidly through documents. "Here is a listing of the businesses operating in Bergeford about fifteen years later. Fifth on the list is, 'Daveona, herbalist and sorceress.'"

They were all shifting documents madly. "Here's a legal decision," Nalineph said. "Mixed. Apparently someone neglected to pay her, and she sought vengeance. The judge seems to have determined that her revenge was more than repayment enough, and in fact rewarded her victim some funds in recompense."

"Does it say what she did?" Man-at-Arms asked.

"Actually, no," Nalineph said irritably. "It's referred to very obliquely – in ways that suggest it was a crime of a very personal nature."

"Well, compile everything you can regarding her and . . ." He gave them all a pleased look. "Very good work."

Derward sighed. "Unfortunately, it brings us no closer to her current location, though."

"But it gives us a starting point," Elira said. "We know when she was born, and we know that she was born to ordinary human parents."

"Background never goes to waste," Duncan said. "Is that what you found, the mention of her birth?"

Teela shook her head. "No, we found reference to what looks to be her first victim."

Her father walked around behind her and looked over her shoulder, reading swiftly. "Darien Maliston," he said thoughtfully. "Was he the first?"

"He certainly sets the stage for the others," Nalineph said. "An only child with no family."

"By the Elders, is that the name?" asked the third of their scholars. "Darien Maliston?" Esbie reached under his chair and picked up a small pile of books. "This isn't one of the records that I thought would be useful, but that name is mentioned frequently herein." He opened the top one of the books. "And this date fits." Paging quickly through, he paused. "Here, listen. 'Darien brought flowers to me again today. Surely a wedding garland cannot be long in coming.'" He flipped forward a few pages. "'His eyes are like cobalt, and I delight in his . . .'" Esbie flushed. "Maybe I should skip this passage," he said. "Anyway, this is the diary of a woman called Naria who was, as it seems from these entries, head over heels in love with Darien Maliston."

"Where did you find that?" Teela demanded.

"It was in the archives with the town records, when I went to fetch them," Esbie said. Gesturing under his chair at several more books. "There were a few other diaries and journals, all from different time periods. It's not at all uncommon, especially for maiden ladies, to leave one's diary to the city historical files."

"Esbie's concentration is the everyday lives of people in past centuries," Derward said. "That's probably why he grabbed those."

"I did not think there was any harm, since they apply toward my own studies, and it appears there may be some benefit."

Man-at-Arms nodded. "No, of course there's no problem, Esbie," he said. "What else does it say? How much before the disappearance is this?"

"Well, if he disappeared at twenty, this is a couple of years before that at least," Esbie said musingly. "Let's see, I could go through the journal and make notes on every reference to either party."

"Can I see that?" Teela asked, holding her hand out imperiously. Esbie handed the book across to her and she looked down at the handwriting of a woman who had been dead more than four hundred years. "How many men has she taken like this?" Teela asked rhetorically. "How many lives has she ruined this way?" No one spoke for a long moment, and Teela handed the book back to Esbie. "All right, you go ahead with that. The rest of us had better get back to work, but I think we can probably avoid the area around Bergeford for the next several decades at least."

The others nodded, and her father rested his hand on her shoulder. "Good work, all of you." Then he left, and she had a feeling he was heading for Grayskull. Part of her yearned to go with him, but she knew her duty was here.

* * *

Duncan checked in with Jenkins to make sure that there was nothing he needed to take with him to Grayskull. Taking the documents that needed a royal signature, he went down to the hangar and took a sky sled. Randor would want to hear this news at the earliest possible opportunity, he knew that for fact. And it got him out of the palace.

Things had been too quiet of late, far too quiet. It made him profoundly nervous that Skeletor had not taken action. There were still reports of missing young men, but they were proving possible to track down, so it appeared that Daviona was not currently active unless she'd changed her pattern entirely. Duncan didn't like it when people stopped behaving predictably.

He landed outside the castle and headed toward the garrison at the foot of the drawbridge. There was a chime at his hip and he raised his com unit to his lips. "Yes, Man-at-Arms here."

"Sir, the mayor of Yalin wishes to speak with you." It was Ivan, who was on duty in the communications center. "I can patch her through, if you like."

"Of course. Please do so."

After a few seconds, he heard the no-nonsense voice of Mayor Marlita. "Man-at-Arms, we have a bit of a situation here."

"What's happened?"

"Romily, Sanviro's betrothed, has run away from home." Duncan let out a heartfelt curse, not considering that Marlita could hear him. "Quite," she said dryly. "She has been gone at least twenty-four hours. Her father thought she had gone to visit a friend, and did not check her room until this afternoon. That's when he found the note."

"Note?" Duncan groaned.

"She has gone out to see if she can find Sanviro. Apparently, according to her younger sister, she has been babbling a bit about this for some days now, but no one thought she'd really do it. She took some supplies and a change of clothes."

"I'll be out there shortly. I'm just on my way to speak to the king, but I will be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you, sir. I have people out searching, but we have no idea what direction she might have headed in. Her sister said she never mentioned where she would look, only that she had to find him."

_With suitably dramatic adjectives attached, no doubt._ "We'll find her, Marlita. I'll see you within two hours." Closing the connection, he called the palace and had them gather a team to help with the search. Then he continued up to the drawbridge which lowered as he approached.

"She's always watching, isn't she?" the sentry at the base of the bridge commented.

"She likes to keep aware of her surroundings," Duncan agreed neutrally. Then he crossed the bridge and followed the now familiar path to what he was beginning to think of as the royal suite.

When he arrived, he found that the only occupant of the sitting room was Marlena, who was reading. She looked up when she saw him, seeming startled. "Is something wrong?" she asked immediately.

"No, my queen," he said "But I do have news for Randor, and unfortunately not a lot of time."

The queen stood up. "They've gone to spar with Mekanek and Ram-Man. I'll just go fetch them. Please sit down."

"Wait," he called and she turned. "Just bring Randor for now. I have news, but I'm not sure how much we'll want to tell Adam."

Marlena nodded slowly and went out. He walked over to the window and looked out, wishing he could be in multiple places at the same time.

The door opened and he turned to face his king and queen, thankful that Marlena had succeeded in merely bringing Randor. "What's happened?" The king asked, coming across to sit in one of the chairs beside the window. Duncan sat across from him as Marlena settled on the arm of Randor's chair.

"Teela's team has discovered some details regarding Daviona, nothing overwhelmingly helpful in locating her, but potentially illuminating about her personally."

"What?" Marlena asked.

"We know when and where she was born, and – just possibly – the name of one of her earliest victims."

"By the Elders," Randor breathed. "Is it possible? How?"

"Teela found a reference to an abandoned property belonging to a man who had run off with a wizardess named Daviona." Duncan paused to let that sink in. "A young man, of twenty, and the notice was sixty years later. They traced back the woman and discovered birth and school records, a list of businesses in the town that includes her as an herbalist and sorceress, and a description that depicts her as having curly brown hair. I'll grant you, we have no picture and no real guarantee that it's her, but it certainly fits."

"It does," Marlena said, eyes fixed on the middle distance. "It most certainly does."

"Additionally, there is a diary from the time period, written by a woman who apparently had an interest in the young man, which leads me to suspect she'll have had an interest in Daviona as well."

"So we may get more details regarding her personality and lifestyle?" Randor said. "If, perhaps, a touch biased."

"And we have an age for her." Both their eyes riveted on his face. "She'll be five hundred and nine years old next month."

They both stared at him. "Five hundred and . . ." Randor shook his head, clearly appalled. "That's insane!"

"How many boys has she used up to keep herself alive that long?" Marlena asked softly, and Randor put his arm around her, holding her close.

"That was Teela's question," Duncan said, rising. "Now, here are some documents you need to sign for Jenkins, and I'm afraid I have to be heading out. We have something in the nature of a minor emergency."

"Emergency?" Adam asked from the doorway, his voice full of concern. Glad to see him, Duncan walked over and gave him a hug. "What kind of emergency?"

Sighing, Duncan walked across the room with him to his parents. "Well, Sanviro's betrothed, a girl called Romily, has decided to go looking for him on her own."

"What?" Adam exclaimed. "We have to find her. Anything could happen to her! She could –"

"I am going to look for her, Adam," Duncan said. The boy fell silent and his eyes dropped. He put his hand on Adam's shoulder. "It's all right, we'll –"

"I know," Adam said. "I just wish I could help." He thumped down into the chair Duncan had so recently occupied.

"Not this time, Adam," his father said, reaching out and squeezing his hand. "But there's nothing wrong with that."

Adam shook his head, and Randor sighed. "So, when did she run away?"

"She's been missing for more than twenty-four hours. I was going to request Mekanek and Ram-Man's help with the search."

"Of course," Mekanek said. "Adam, I –"

Adam looked up. "Go, please, all of you. Find her before she gets into trouble."

Duncan nodded and Randor held out the documents he'd brought with him, now signed and ready for Jenkins' use. "Yes, my friends, go."

They left the castle and Duncan wished desperately that he could bring Adam along. He wondered what the future held in store for Eternia with He-Man not permitted his weapon. It was going to be some time before Adam was even allowed to be alone . . . people would begin to wonder, and perhaps make connections before long.

Resolutely putting that out of his mind, Duncan focused on the task at hand.

* * *

Evil-Lyn smiled at Skeletor. It was an insincere expression, which they both knew, but the fiction of amicable cooperation, among others, allowed them to operate. "What can I help you with, Lord Skeletor?"

Skeletor was lounging in his throne. He beckoned her closer and she climbed the steps. "Be seated, my dear Evil-Lyn," he said. "Make yourself comfortable."

Gazing up at him with concealed suspicion, she settled down on the steps. "Yes?"

"In this relationship I have uncovered between He-Man and Prince Adam, one can make certain assumptions, I should think."

_Assuming there is a relationship to begin with,_ she thought dryly. It was very like Skeletor to have determined, with no other evidence than his own reasoning, that he was correct and move on from there. "Assumptions?" she asked dubiously.

"Well," Skeletor said in a very droll tone, "He-Man is very masculine, quite virile."

Evil-Lyn nodded, trying to control her facial expression. _Is he going where I think he's going with this?_

"Whereas Prince Adam is a sweet-faced youth, gentle of temperament, one might almost say 'feminine.'"

She rigidly controlled her amused reaction to this statement. She didn't think Prince Adam could reasonably be described as feminine. On the other hand, she knew for a fact that it wasn't necessary for one of a male pairing to be feminine. "And?" she prompted when Skeletor paused.

"By this time, it has to be evident to the Sorceress that the boy is a well, so she may have taken steps to restrict access to his power."

"True enough," Evil-Lyn said. "Your point?"

"Well, Evil-Lyn," he said, his voice silky with disdain, making her grind her teeth in irritation, "were the Sorceress to behave in a sensible fashion, it might severely limit our access to Adam's power."

Coolly tilting her head, ignoring his insulting manner, she said, "That could be problematic, though I've never known the Sorceress to behave in a sensible fashion, so it may not be an issue."

"I do not feel like trusting to it, so I have been doing some more reading and have discovered several facts. The sexual method of drawing on power is the hardest to block. It is, in fact, nearly impossible, so I have a question for you." She raised an eyebrow sardonically, waiting. "Would you be willing to do the honors if such proves necessary?"

Fury suffused her and she found herself on her feet, staring down at Skeletor, who was still seated in his throne, from her vantage point on the step just below the top. "Absolutely not!" she snapped. "For one thing, I have no knowledge of the methods of drawing power in that fashion. For another, I am no rapist."

Skeletor nodded, seeming hatefully condescending. "I guessed as much," he said smoothly. "You are a woman, and have a woman's sensibilities about some things." She did not deign to reply, merely narrowing her eyes. "And in any case, being homosexual, the boy might find you somewhat unappealing, if that can be imagined."

Evil-Lyn rolled her eyes. "I see. And the point of this rather meandering discussion?" she asked, allowing some of her own scorn to show.

"Do you know of any means for transforming a young man into a young woman?" he asked, his eyes flashing to crimson.

Her eyes widened. "No, Skeletor, I do not. All of my own transformations are either illusions or they're within my own gender and quite temporary." She shrugged. "I have never been particularly interested in such things."

"Then I shall have to research it myself. It would be rather amusing to hold He-Man's lover against him in a form he found less appealing." Skeletor let out a peal of laughter. "And I quite like the notion of turning Randor's only son into a daughter. I think Randor's just the sort of fellow who would find himself quite unmanned by such a turn of events."

"Probably," Evil-Lyn said slowly, deeply disturbed by the entire notion.

"And the boy may find he prefers to be female. It would rather reduce the expectations on him. Not many women are like you and that little snipe, Teela."

Repressing a growl at hearing herself compared to the wretched child of Man-at-Arms, Evil-Lyn gave Skeletor an unfriendly smile. "No, I suppose not." She took a step back. "Now, it seems to me that you have little use for my services in this situation. Do you need me any longer?"

"Not particularly," Skeletor said, waving a negligent hand. "You are dismissed."

"Why thank you," she said, bowing insincerely and backing out of the room. As soon as she was out of sight, she turned her back on him and marched toward her own work room. When she reached the door, she changed her mind abruptly and turned toward the cavern where the vehicles were stored.

* * *

They had been searching for the entire afternoon. Romily's father was beside himself with worry, and Duncan couldn't blame him. He'd even sent for Teela and Nalineph as the day wore on with no sign of the girl.

They'd wound up with an uneven number of searchers when he'd finally sent Romily's father home, so Duncan had continued alone. He had issued lights to all the villagers who were out looking, but the situation made him profoundly nervous. He believed that Daviona was keeping quiet, but there were other potential threats, and as night drew in, he didn't like having so many people out in the field, especially so many inexperienced people.

He was contemplating ordering the villagers back to their homes as he rounded the corner of a boulder in the twilight – and came face to face with Evil-Lyn.

Raising his left arm straight out from his shoulder, he activated his hand cannon, glaring at the evil sorceress. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"It's a good thing you're a noble idiot," Evil-Lyn said, smiling grimly. "If you were one of my colleagues, you'd have to ask questions of a smoking hole in the ground."

"Don't tempt me," he growled.

"Don't be a fool, Duncan," she said, crossing her arms gracefully. "I have something I want to tell you, and I think you'll want to hear it."

He didn't relax his cannon, but he raised an eyebrow. "And just what is that?"

She raised an elegant eyebrow. "I'm not a very trusting woman, Duncan, please lower the cannon. I'm about to tell you something that's quite likely to upset you, and I don't _want_ to be a smoking hole in the ground."

Grudgingly, he lowered the cannon. "What could you possibly have to tell me that I'd want to hear?"

"Skeletor's plans?" she suggested, raising an eyebrow archly. "Unless you don't mind operating blindly."

"And why would you tell me what Skeletor's got planned?" he asked distrustfully.

"Because I don't approve," she replied, her eyes narrowing. "Listen carefully, Duncan, because I will not tell you again. Skeletor has determined that the least easily blocked method of drawing power from a well . . ." She paused briefly, giving him a coolly appraising look. "Good, you know. I didn't want to have to tell you everything."

"Go on," he growled.

"Skeletor has determined that the least easily blocked method of drawing power from a well is through sexual contact, and since Skeletor is not homosexual, he does not want to have sex with the boy as he is."

"Are you saying _you _will –"

Her eyes flashed lavender. "Pay attention!" she snapped. "I am not a rapist. Skeletor intends to turn Adam into a girl." The breath caught in Duncan's throat at this horrifying idea. She quirked an ironic smile at his reaction. "He seems to think Adam might prefer it." He goggled at her, and she shrugged. "Regardless, I thought you should know, so that you can arrange for your pet bird to take steps to circumvent it."

Duncan stared at her, utterly appalled. "Why should I believe you?" he demanded.

"What possible benefit could there be to me in telling you this?" she asked contemptuously. "Of what possible benefit could it be to Skeletor?" She gave him a long look. "Don't be more of a fool than you have to be, my dear Duncan."

"I still don't understand, even if you don't approve, why would you –"

"I have told you what I came to tell you," she said, cutting him off. "Believe me or don't, but if Adam winds up pregnant with Skeletor's child, it's on your head. Good night."

There was a sudden flash of light and she was gone. When his eyes readjusted to the dimming light of the dying day, Duncan stared around, cursing. Randor would be furious.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

Teela saw a group of bandits ahead of her, but she didn't see any signs that they had a captive. So instead of rushing them herself with Nalineph, she pulled her comlink off her belt, gesturing that Nalineph should keep his eye on them. Perhaps they could get lucky and capture them.

She drew off a little so that she could call the others, but as she moved away, she saw a movement in the brush ahead of her. There was a faint shimmer of light on pale fabric. Teela raised her thermal binoculars and looked across at the bush. Within the comparatively cool branches, she could see a rounded figure, clearly a young woman, and she mouthed a curse.

Lifting her comlink to her lips, she spoke very quietly. "Mekanek, get whatever masters and guards you can over towards my position right now. I have someone I think might be Romily in my sights, but there's also a group of maybe . . ." She looked up. "Hell, there are more of them now. Maybe twenty bandits gathering, looks like they may be preparing to camp. She appears to be hiding from them."

"Got you, Teela."

"I'll take care of the girl while you and the others deal with the bandits."

"Yes, ma'am," Mekanek said. Nodding decisively, she passed that information on to Nalineph, then started making her way stealthily toward the bush while her partner started edging around toward where Mekanek would likely engage the rough men.

Teela was within a foot of the bush when Mekanek spoke. "Freeze, the lot of you!" he commanded. Thanking the Elders that his position made it unlikely that the outlaws would flee in this direction, Teela crossed the distance between herself and the girl in a rush to keep her from doing something foolish.

Falling to her knees, she put her finger to her lips as the girl started to slide out from her hiding place. Wide brown eyes looked up at her in shock, but the other girl didn't move. Teela's comlink vibrated and she lifted it. "Yes," she said quietly.

"We've got them, Teela," Mekanek said.

"Thanks." Teela stood up and put her hand out to the girl. "Are you Romily?" she asked.

After a moment, the girl took her hand and got to her feet. "I am," she said. "And you are?"

"Teela, Captain of the Eternian Guard."

"Thank you, you have saved my life." Teela opened her mouth, but couldn't find any words. She was faced with a very pretty girl, all curves and frills. _If this is what she thinks is the right outfit to go out searching the wilds in, I don't want to know what she'd wear to a ball._

"Well, I was out here looking for you," Teela said, and Romily's eyes widened.

"You were? But I –" Romily shook her head, her pleasant face becoming very determined. "I will not return home. I must find Sanviro."

Teela nodded, finding herself in sympathy with the foolish girl, despite herself. "I get that, but it's not safe to be out here alone," she said. "It won't help Sanviro if you get hurt or killed."

Romily's face crinkled with distress. "But I cannot sit at home doing nothing!" she cried. "It is my fault that he's in such terrible straits, and no one will tell me what's happening. I know my father knows more than he says. The king's man-at-arms met with him and with the mayor, and I am certain that he told them what is likely to be happening to my love." Tear started to run down the girl's face. "I can't bear the thought of not knowing."

Teela glanced around, looking for potential dangers, and not seeing any, she put her arms around the other young woman. "I know how you feel," she said simply.

"You can't!" the girl cried. "How can you? Is someone you love missing? Are terrible things happening to your closest companion that you can do nothing to stop?"

"Not anymore," Teela said.

Caught in the midst of her histrionics, Romily stared at her, mouth open. "What?" she asked weakly after a moment.

"My best friend was being held by this same woman for awhile," Teela said. "A boy I've known since we were babies. So I do know how you feel."

Romily sniffed, blinking, then threw her arms around Teela's neck, bawling. Answering tears dampened Teela's eyes, and she held the other girl close, feeling a kinship with her that she would never have expected.

After a few more minutes, her father and some of the other masters appeared. "Could you get a wind raider over here?" she asked softly when her father had come close enough.

"Of course, Teela." He gave the orders, then spoke gently. "Romily?"

The girl sniffled, and turned, pulling a handkerchief out of her bodice and touching it to her eyes. "Yes? Oh, sir!" she exclaimed. "My lord, I –"

He shook his head. "I'm not a lord, Romily. Now, your family is very worried about you, but I think it would be best to take you back to the palace with us tonight." He took a deep breath. "I'm not sure it wouldn't be better to keep you there until this is over."

"She can stay with me," Teela heard herself offer. Duncan's eyes widened, and Teela could tell that he was surprised by her willingness. She decided to ignore this loftily. "If that's all right."

"Oh, that's fine," her father said hastily. "It's ideal."

"Thank you so much, Captain," Romily said. "But I don't want to put you out."

"You aren't," Teela said. "Call me Teela." The wind raider landed, and Teela glanced over at her old friends who were gathered around. "Will you let Ram-Man help you into the wind raider?" she asked Romily, gesturing the giant master over. She could feel the girl shrink slightly and squeezed her shoulders. "He's the gentlest man I know," she said softly. "And that includes my father."

Thus reassured, Romily allowed Ram-Man to gently lift her into the vehicle, and Teela swung up behind her. Teela's father walked up and said, "I need to report to the king, but I'll be back soon. Make sure she gets something to eat, all right?"

"Of course, Father," she said. "I'll take good care of her."

* * *

Duncan made a quick stop at Romily's home to reassure her father that she was fine. The man seemed pleased and relieved that his daughter was being taken to the palace. "You undoubtedly have better safeguards there than I can provide," he said after giving his profuse thanks.

Duncan nodded. "She'll be staying with my own daughter," he said. "Teela will keep a close eye on her."

"Thank you so very much for finding her."

"I'll send someone to fetch you in the morning so you can go see her."

The man nodded, and Duncan took his leave. This was proving to be an incredibly busy night. He suspected, as he headed back towards Grayskull, that Randor had gone to bed, but he couldn't dare wait. The bridge dropped before him as he arrived, and he walked in. "Sorceress?" he called as it closed behind him.

A moment later she appeared before him, light surrounding her. "Yes, Man-at-Arms?"

"I spoke with Evil-Lyn tonight, and she had quite alarming news, if it's to be believed." The Sorceress listened stoically to his recitation of the the situation as outlined by the evil wizardess. When he was done, she was silent for so long a time that he wondered if she was going to respond at all.

Finally, she said, "She is right. No purpose could possibly be served by lying about such a thing, unless she wished to make us trust Skeletor even less than we already do."

"And that's certainly not needed," Duncan remarked dryly.

"Quite true. And what information I can testify to is true as well. It is very difficult, if not impossible, to block sexual transmission of power."

"Hell!" Duncan growled. "What do we do then?"

"Well, first I think we need to speak with Randor, but not Adam. I do not know about his father, but I think this is the last thing Adam needs to hear right now."

"Randor and Marlena, but we can't leave Adam alone."

"Just a moment." She closed her eyes, and Duncan wondered precisely what she was doing.

* * *

Marlena awoke to the oddest sensation. She sat up and looked around. _"Queen Marlena?"_

"Sorceress?" The queen looked up, startled. "Did you wake me up?"

"_I did. There is news. First the girl, young Romily, has been found, and is safe."_ Marlena smiled, pleased by this information. _"But there is further news, and it is not good,"_ the Sorcress said. _"Duncan is here, and we must speak with you and your husband. Can you awaken Randor without awakening Adam? I will ask Dorgan to sit with Adam while you and Randor come down to the throne room."_

Marlena nodded, forgetting briefly that the Sorceress wasn't in the room with her.

This didn't seem to be a problem, for a second later, the woman said, _"Very good."_

The queen slipped out of the bed and touched Randor's shoulder. His eyes opened and he looked over at her. Adam hadn't stirred. She beckoned to him and he slid to the edge of the bed. The door opened and she glanced over her shoulder to see Dorgan coming in.

Randor's eyes were wide with worry as he rose. She caught up her robe and he did likewise, following her out into the sitting room. Once the door was closed, she said, "The Sorceress says that Duncan has news we need to hear, and she doesn't want to share it with Adam just now."

"I see," her husband said, and opened the door for her. They headed out into the halls. The path to the throne room was growing familiar, now.

"Romily has been found, by the way, and is safe," Marlena remarked.

"That is excellent news," Randor replied, though his voice was subdued. She knew he was as apprehensive as she was. Being called like this was nerve-wracking.

Duncan and the Sorceress were waiting for them in the throne room. As always, he Sorceress looked completely neutral, but Duncan's expression was grim.

Randor walked swiftly across to him and said, "What's happened? Does it pertain to Romily? The kingdom?" A third suggestion hovered, unspoken.

"No, it's not Romily or the kingdom," Duncan said. "I wound up searching alone, and Evil-Lyn found me." Marlena's hand went to her lips, and her mouth went dry. Randor's fists clenched. "It was not an attack, but a warning."

"A warning?" Randor repeated. "What did the witch want with you?"

Marlena captured one of Randor's hands in hers, trying to curtail his reaction. "What did she want to warn you about?" she asked.

"Apparently, it's difficult to block access – it's hard –" Duncan paused, floundering, and the Sorceress rescued him.

"There are a number of ways to draw power out of a person. The easiest, least draining and most efficient method is the one Daviona has chosen. It is unusal to use it to the degree that she has, but she, herself, is unusual to say the least." Marlena nodded and Randor stood stoically beside her. "It is also the least easily blocked. It requires such intimate contact, and there is so much energy released in the activity by its very nature that it becomes nearly impossible to shield against power drain. I have some leads on ways of doing so, but Skeletor has apparently uncovered this fact."

"By the Elders," Randor murmured distressfully, squeezing Marlena's hand.

"What does he plan?" Marlena asked anxiously.

"He plans, because Adam is male, to transform him into a female so that he can more readily access the power," Duncan said flatly.

Marlena let out a small gasp as Randor's hand closed tightly around hers, though it barely registered amid the tide of emotions that were surging through her. Her husband released his grip instantly and drew her into his arms where she clung, horrified by the notion.

"That wretched bastard!" Randor growled. "Why can't all these bloody people leave my son alone?"

"Because he is who he is," the Sorceress said. "He is a well, he is the son of the king of Eternia, he is a powerful focus for your people, a source of –"

"I know all that!" Randor exclaimed loudly, cutting her off. "Damn it! It was a rhetorical question!" there was a brief silence, and then he coughed. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you like that."

"I quite understand, your highness. These circumstances are enough to try the patience of a saint."

Randor snorted. "And I'm no saint," he agreed. "Thank you for being so understanding. What can we do?"

"At the moment all we can really do is look for the best method of shielding him and keep him as safe as humanly possible."

"Please," Marlena said, her voice breaking. "This doesn't mean we can't take him home? That means so much to him."

The Sorceress shook her head. "We'd have to explain why, and I really don't think he needs to hear this."

"No," Randor said immediately. "Adam doesn't need to know this. The only possible reason I can think of for telling him would be to prepare him for the possibility, and I don't think hearing about it in advance would be helpful to him should it actually happen."

"What would that do to him in the state he's in now?" Marlena wondered aloud. "He's been through so much already, I can't fathom what this would do to his spirit."

"I don't know either," Randor said, shaking his head. "Is that all Evil-Lyn said to you?"

"More or less," Duncan replied. Randor opened his mouth to speak, but Duncan shook his head. "She just made some snide remarks, about what I'd expect from her."

"All right," Randor said. "And the girl, Romily, how is she?"

"Teela's taken her under her wing," Man-at-Arms said, looking mightily perplexed. "I've had her taken to the palace, where I plan to have her stay until things are decided. She wants desperately to be of use in the search, so perhaps I can find something that will make her feel less ineffectual."

"Perhaps she can help with Teela's studies."

"We'll see," Duncan said. "I have to be heading back now."

"Of course." Randor shook his friend's hand. "I'd better be getting back to Adam in case he wakes up." With that, he hurried off.

"I must go as well," the Sorceress said. "This does increase the urgency of finding a suitable shield."

Marlena stayed behind, walking with Duncan toward the exit. "Is Teela going to be able to handle this child?" she asked softly. "She's not the most patient of girls."

Duncan nodded. "I'd frankly have expected her to be very impatient with her, very irritated by her folly in going off by herself, but it doesn't seem to be the case." He shook his head. "I'm very thankful. It makes it easier to provide her with a guard that keeps the proprieties intact."

"Are you all right? Evil-Lyn didn't do anything to you?"

"Beyond irritating me and scaring me half to death . . . no."

"Why did she come to you at all?"

"She says she doesn't approve of Skeletor's plans, and she got quite testy when I questioned that." He shuddered.

"What?"

"Well, when I asked her, she told me that I could believe it if I chose, but that it wouldn't be her fault if Adam turned up pregnant with Skeletor's child."

Marlena let out an involuntary murmur of horror.

"Damn, I'm sorry, Marlena. I shouldn't have shared that. It's bad enough that I have to have nightmares about it."

"No, it's all right, Duncan. It's also not the sort of thing to store up inside and think about." She shook her head. "All the same, I don't think I'll be telling Randor."

Duncan made a face and nodded. "That strikes me as wise. Good night, my queen."

"Good night, Duncan," she replied.

He left the castle and she returned to their rooms.

* * *

It was becoming routine. Jeclarren would rise and go to the kitchen before Sanviro awoke. He would then make three meals. Sanviro would remain in their room, and while Jeclarren was gone he'd clean it up and wash their clothes. Daviona had finally given them a couple of changes of clothing, though they were all the same. Dark red shirts, black pants, and black leather boots. It was like a uniform.

Daviona had not stopped muttering to herself intermittently while she kept watch on him as he worked. For the most part, her words were incomprehensible, not so much because they were quiet but because they regarded subjects that Jeclarren knew nothing about.

But Prince Adam came up with increasing frequency in her monologues, and Jeclarren occasionally found himself flushing at the lustful way she spoke of him. It was odd, though, she didn't speak of him as if he were a person, more as a particularly nice possession that had been stolen from her. And her lust wasn't for his physical body alone, but for the power contained therein.

It became clear as she spoke that their guesses were right, she was using the energy she drew from them for magical purposes. It apparently helped to run everything around them, which made Jeclarren feel decided unsettled as he cooked, knowing that the fire that browned the meat was fueled by his own sexual torment. And Sanviro's.

After the meals were done, they would eat breakfast and she would return Jeclarren to their room. Then she would vanish for several hours, only reappearing to bring them their lunch. Another hour or so would pass after that, and then she would come for one of them, which of them seemed to be guided by whim. The other would follow, and then they'd sleep.

And in the morning it all began again. Jeclarren was ready to scream at the dreary monotony of it. He thought he knew how long they'd been there, but it was getting harder to keep track of time now that the days were so similar. He sighed.

"Is something the matter?" Sanviro asked. They had finished lunch and now both had books open in front of them, neither feeling inclined toward a game.

"I'm having a little trouble working out how long we've been here," he said. "The days are running together."

"We've been with Daviona ten days," Sanviro said. "I've been keeping track." His eyes were slightly fey. "I've been away from Romily for ten days."

"How are you so sure?" Jeclarren asked.

"Well, we were at the first place for three days, and since then I've been making marks in the wood of the bed every morning when I wake up."

"Oh," Jeclarren said, glancing at the beds. "I never thought of that."

"It's not particularly brilliant," Sanviro said. "It's in a lot of novels about this kind of thing." Jeclarren nodded. Sanviro had apparently read a lot of sensational novels, many of them borrowed from Romily.

"Well, I can honestly say I've never read a novel," he said. Then he looked down at the book that was lying open on the table. "I still haven't," he said, shutting the book with a snap. The letters were spidery patterns with no meaning to them. He'd managed to recognize one or two words on the first page, but nothing more.

"Don't like it?" Sanviro asked. "These are very old books."

Jeclarren got up and went over to flop down on one of the beds. "No, I don't like it," he said, then rolled over.

Sanviro was silent for a few moments and then he said, "Are you all right?" His voice was high and a little alarmed.

Jeclarren closed his eyes in frustration, then rolled over onto his back. He didn't want to freak the kid out. "I'm fine. I just don't want to read, that's all."

"We can play a game if you would prefer," Sanviro said.

"No, I don't want to play either." He shook his head and sat up. "Just read your book, okay? I'm fine, really."

Sanviro continued to gaze at him in obvious worry. Jeclarren stood up and walked over to the bookshelf where their books and games were stored. He pulled out some paper and a pencil and went to sit down.

"I'll just do some sketching, to keep myself occupied."

The other young man still seemed a bit uncomfortable, but Jeclarren focused on his sketches. He had an idea for a style of furniture that he thought would be very attractive and functional, but as a low-class carpenter, he never got to do the finished stuff. Mostly he put together the frames of buildings under someone else's direction, or the underpinnings of furniture that other people designed and senior carpenters did the finish work on.

Sanviro returned to his book once it became obvious that Jeclarren really was absorbed in his drawing. He started with a chair, a simple straight-backed chair, built for comfort and elegance, then moved on to a table and a cabinet that would match. Each separate piece had several sketches, showing what the finished object would look like from various angles, and an exploded drawing of what the parts would look like to create the finished piece and how they fit together. It was quite an involved task, and Sanviro was in the midst of working out the measurements required for the cabinet when his work was interrupted by a voice from the doorway.

"Jeclarren?"

He looked up, feeling a little stunned. So immersed in his sketching had he been that he'd been able to forget for a time where he was and what was expected of him. Daviona was gazing at him from the window in the door. He stood up, putting the pencil down on his calculations. He walked across, allowed her to bind him and went with her.

This also never changed. First she took him into the room with the chair and had him sit down in it. He had stopped asking her questions, it seemed rather pointless since it only angered her, and she never answered them anyway. He got more information by simply listening while she talked to herself. She'd give him some combination of drugs in a syringe, then take him into the bed chamber.

Before long, the drugs took over his entire body, forcing him to participate. He'd had sex before, more than once, but his partners had been barmaids and the like, more a hurried, mutual fumbling in the dark than this . . . wallow in luxury, where the goal was nothing like mutual. He gave her the pleasure she wanted and received the poisoned release she provided in return.

He lay flat on his back on the bed for a few moments after she seemed to have stopped. "Your stamina is increasing," she said, stroking his belly. He shuddered, body utterly worn out yet still trying to respond. "But still, I don't want to overdo things too much," she went on, leaning across him, her breasts brushing his skin. "Tomorrow both you and Sanviro will have a free day, except for the meals. You still have to cook the meals." She kissed him on the lips, then drew back and smiled. "You're a very good cook."

He gulped and said, "Um . . . thanks?"

She laughed merrily and stood up, stretching. He rolled away, closing his eyes against this sight. Bending, he pulled his clothes up off the floor and started pulling them on. When he was dressed, he sat there, unable to will himself to move. The drugs seemed to be able to push him past exhaustion, and when they gave out, he had no energy left.

She stopped before him and raised his chin to look into her eyes. "No, I think what I will do is leave Sanviro till tomorrow. You are more weary than I thought."

Jeclarren sat listlessly. He heard what she said, but it was beyond him to respond. Dressing himself had taken the last of his energy. The door opened and closed, and while he registered the fact of it, he didn't think about it. He just sat.

Awhile later, Sanviro came in with Daviona. The other man walked over to Jeclarren, lifted one of his arms across his shoulder and said, "Can you get up?"

After a moment, he realized what Sanviro wanted and helped as much as he could. Sanviro heaved him to his feet and helped him walk through the corridors to their room. Jeclarren wondered what Daviona had told him was going on. Daviona opened the door and they made their way inside.

She shut it behind them and he heard the bar fall into place. Sanviro got him to the first bed and helped him to lie down on it. Or, more accurately, Jeclarren collapsed and Sanviro straightened him so that he wasn't in an uncomfortable position. He went to the table, and Jeclarren closed his eyes. He couldn't quite sleep, though he wanted to. Sanviro patted him on the shoulder a moment later, and he looked up at him.

"I'm going to leave it up to you, but she left something for you to drink. She said it would help you sleep properly, but I will understand if you don't want it."

Jeclarren opened his mouth and tried to sit up. Sanviro put an arm around his shoulders and helped him sit up enough to drink it. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Give it to me," Jeclarren said. Sanviro held it to his lips, and he drank the liquid. It was bland and tepid. He swallowed it down with some effort and fell back against the bed. Within moments, he was deeply asleep.

* * *

Adam awoke to find his father sitting up in bed, reading a book. He peeked over at the pages and saw that it was a different novel than the one they were reading together.

"Good morning, Adam," Randor said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like the dead," the prince said. Then he froze, a little bothered by his choice of words. "Deeply, anyway." He glanced back at his dad, who was looking a little frozen himself. "Sorry."

The king shook his head. "It's okay," he said. "Don't worry about it."

Adam shrugged in embarrassment and looked around the room. Cringer was sprawled on his back on the bed, but the room was otherwise empty. "Where's Mom?" he asked.

"She's gone out to talk to Dorgan about today's treatment."

Nodding, Adam got off the bed and went towards the bathing chamber. His father got up and came with him. Neither of them said anything, and Adam tried not to think about it as they went in. He got cleaned up and they went into the main room of the suite to eat breakfast. Adam was nervous about the treatment and pretending not to be.

His mother and Dorgan must have been in the infimary room, because they weren't out here. Adam sat down with his father and started eating without really noticing what the food was. The first time he'd had a treatment, he'd turned into a ball of quivering jelly. He didn't want to do that again.

As Adam finished, the door opened and Orko floated in looking happy. The Sorceress was with him, and she was smiling. "Adam!" Orko cried and circled around him once. "I'm very close to a solution to the last drug! Not quite there, but it will be another day or two at the most!"

Adam grinned at him and jumped up. "That's great, Orko!"

"I think it will be a lot easier than this one is, too," Orko exclaimed gleefully. "For you, I mean. I'll probably collapse."

Adam stopped grinning abruptly. "That's not good," he said.

"Oh, no, it will just drain me of magic temporarily. The Sorceress can give me a jump start," he said with a nervous giggle. "And I'll be as good as new in no time!"

"Yes, Adam," the Sorceress said. "I would not allow Orko do anything that would endanger him."

Adam nodded, feeling unaccountably uncomfortable in her presence. He'd been with her more than once since that first panicked reaction. She took a step towards him and he took an involuntary step backwards. "I'm sorry," he blurted. "I don't know why I'm being –" He couldn't find words to express it.

The Sorceress backed off, looking perplexed, but his father spoke. "It's unscripted," he said in tones of enlightenment. "Adam wasn't expecting you, and he doesn't know why you're here."

"I know why she's here," Adam protested.

"Adam," his father remonstrated, walking over and putting his arm around his son's shoulders. "There isn't a previously understood set of events going to take place. It's okay, your reaction is okay."

"It's dumb!" Adam growled.

"It will pass," his father said. "Now, the Sorceress and Orko are going to go get set up with Dorgan in the infirmary so that everything's ready for your treatment, and we're going to sit out here until we're called."

The Sorceress nodded, and Orko gave Adam a quick hug and floated off into the infirmary after her. "Unscripted?" Adam asked his father. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Randor lead him to a seat and sat down with him. "You didn't know what she was going to do at that moment. Until she was in the infirmary, stationed next to Orko, your interaction with her was unscripted. The other times she's come, there has been a clearly defined task with specific requirements that you knew in advance."

"So I need to know what she's going to do before she comes?" Adam asked, still feeling like an idiot. "Or I'll get nervous and stupid?"

"There's nothing stupid about it," his father said firmly.

"I don't do this with Mother," Adam said, and he was embarrassed to hear his voice break.

"It's different. With both Teela and your mother, you have a personal relationship of long standing. You can predict their actions. You don't know the Sorceress as well, so her actions are a little harder to guess at."

"But I know she'd never attack me the way Daviona did," Adam said. "I know her well enough to know that."

"This isn't a reaction on a thinking level, son." His father's face was creased with sympathy. "I know how hard this has to be for you, but your reactions aren't stemming from anything you can control just yet. You will gain control over them, but it will take time."

"Time!" Adam groaned. "Everything is going to take time! She may have stopped my aging, but it feels like she's taken years out of my life that I'm going to have to use to recover!"

"I wish I could say that wasn't true," his father said. Adam crossed his arms tightly over his chest. His father tapped his forearm. "Now, son, I want you to uncross your arms and take a few deep breaths to relax. You don't need to go into this treatment tense."

Adam followed his instructions and tried to relax, but it wasn't coming easily. Before more than a couple of seconds had passed, his mother came out and said, "Everything is ready."

"Just a minute, dear," Randor said. She nodded and went back in to tell the others. Adam looked up curiously at his father, but before he could ask any questions, he found himself being clasped in a tight embrace. He wrapped his arms around his father's waist and leaned into the hug, finding it more relaxing than an hour of deep breathing. After a few minutes, his father drew back and smiled down at him. "Feeling a little more ready?"

Adam nodded. "Thanks," he said.

They went into the next room and Adam felt his shoulders tense. He had a feeling it would be more than just his shoulders if he didn't have his father at his side. He looked at the bed and said, "Dad, why don't you sit down first and then I'll . . . I think I'll be better off if I'm . . ."

"All right," his father said, seeming to understand him despite his inability to finish the sentence. When his father was situated, Adam slipped up onto the bed and leaned against him. They were back in that position they'd used to keep Adam from scratching himself bloody.

Dorgan waited until they seemed to be comfortable and then he said, "Are you ready?"

Adam nodded tautly and turned his head away from Dorgan so he wouldn't see the gigantic needles, but the moment Dorgan took his arm to position it, he felt his heart start beating fast, and his breathing started to speed up. His father stroked his hair and his mother took his other hand, but it didn't help. He managed to keep the arm Dorgan was holding limp and relaxed, but the rest of him went as tight as a bowstring. He couldn't decide if this was better or worse than the last time. He knew what was happening, but that had both positive and negative sides. There was a sharp sting as the first needle punctured the skin on his arm, and Adam let out a stifled moan of panic, and tears started to roll down his face. He couldn't control himself. He'd never cried while he was being injected by Trevor or Daviona, but somehow he couldn't keep from doing so now. The second needle penetrated his skin, and Adam bit his lip hard to keep from making any noise.

His body slowly relaxed and his father's murmured reassurances got through to him. It didn't slow his tears, but he could pay limited attention to what was going on around him. The Sorceress sat on the other side of the bed, and it looked like she might be feeding power to Orko. Dorgan was watching the blood flow anxiously. Adam closed his eyes again, not wanting to see the blood flowing out and back in again.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

Randor watched Adam anxiously as his son leaned against his chest. He was stroking the boy's hair, trying to comfort him, but the tears were flowing as they had last time, and Adam had started to shake. Marlena squeezed his hand and then let go, getting up to put a blanket over Adam's trembling body.

Randor smiled at his wife as she tucked the blanket carefully around their son, then pulled out a handkerchief and started wiping away Adam's tears with it. Randor gazed down sympathetically at his son. He would be utterly humiliated to remember this, and they couldn't seem to persuade him that his reactions were normal.

Dorgan looked over at them, his eyes crinkling with sympathy. "I wish I'd thought to bring something hot to drink in with us," he said.

Marlena jumped and Randor looked at the bedside table beside her. A carafe and a cup sat there had hadn't been there before. From the carafe wafted the sweet-smelling steam of hot chai. Marlena immediately reached out and filled the cup. "Thank you, Sorceress," she said. Randor glanced over at the Sorceress, startled that she could take such an action while she was feeding power to Orko.

Marlena leaned across. "Adam, honey? I've got some chai. Will you drink some?"

Adam brought his free hand up and took the cup. He drank it, somewhat automatically. Randor rubbed the upper part of the arm with the needles in it. "You'll be okay, son, everything will be okay." The treatment progressed until finally they were done. Dorgan removed the needles and Adam, tears finally ebbing, rubbed his arm, still leaning against his father's chest.

"How are you feeling?" Dorgan asked.

"Not as bad as last time," Adam said, his voice thick with the congestion brought on by so much crying. "But I still feel kind of woozy and feverish."

"Well, we just loosed a whole bunch more stuff into your blood," Dorgan said, reaching out and touching his forehead. "I think there's a bit of fever, and it will probably increase over the next hour or so." The healer looked up into Randor's eyes. "Get him into bed," he said. "He'll be happier in his room."

Randor started to slide out from under him, but Adam grabbed at him and looked around. "Wait, how's Orko?"

The Trollan wizard floated wearily over and patted Adam on the shoulder. "I'm fine," he said. "The Sorceress helped me. I'll be good as new in an hour. You go to bed."

Impulsively, Adam snatched Orko out of the air and hugged him tight. "You're great, Orko!" he declared in heartfelt tones.

The little jester hugged him back and said, "I love you, Adam." When Adam let go, he drew back and took a mock-authoritative pose. "Now, go to bed."

"Yes, sir," Adam said, grinning, and he let his father help him up. Randor resisted the impulse to scoop him into his arms because Adam seemed to be walking all right. He needed to let his son do things for himself. Like walking. Marlena was always –

"Randor, pick him up!" his wife said impatiently.

Adam turned to her. "Mom, I'm fine," he said, but, with his attention on her rather than on the path, he stumbled, and Randor scooped him up.

"I don't know what you were thinking, Randor."

He rolled his eyes, and Adam must have seen it because he chortled. "I thought I'd let him walk on his own two feet, Marlena, unless he had difficulties."

"Well, honestly, letting him walk when he's . . ." Marlena exclaimed, her voice trailing off, and Randor sighed fondly. In such small ways she showed her own stress.

"Dad?" Adam said his eyes fixed on something behind his father. "Why is the wall moving?"

Randor looked over his shoulder at the wall behind him. "It's not, son," he said.

"I think I need to go to bed," Adam said, sounding pathetic. Randor carried him into the bedroom and put him down on the bed. When he started to pull back, Adam clutched at him. "Dad, don't leave me."

"I'm here," Randor said, sitting beside him on the bed, putting an arm around his shoulder. "You up to hearing some more of our book?"

"Sure," Adam said. "Can I have some water?"

Marlena went after the water without a word, and Randor started reading aloud. Adam snuggled in and listened. He was certainly less badly off than the first time, but Dorgan had told them there was considerably less of the relevant drugs in his system. The last one, the conditioning drug, however, was still there in much closer to full strength. Adam had lost of a lot of it when he'd . . . lost so much blood, but –

"Dad? Is something wrong?" His son was looking up at him worriedly.

"No, sorry, Adam." He resumed reading, cursing himself for letting his mind wander. He'd think about the situation later. For now, he needed to concentrate on his son.

* * *

Romily sat next to Teela scanning through the records eagerly. Teela hoped she really understood what she was looking for, but there was no denying her enthusiasm. Nalineph had explained things to her, and she certainly seemed to understand what they were looking for. They had set her reading through the tax registers looking for Daviona's name or some variation of it, since she didn't appear to have stopped using it at this point.

They were all getting tired, even the scholars who spent most of their time poring over ancient texts seemed to be losing energy, but Romily was fresh. When lunchtime came, Teela had to pry her away from the books.

"You've got to eat, Romily."

The girl came away with her reluctantly, and they both ate quickly so that they could head back to work. She heard Nalineph speaking behind them as they walked back toward the workroom, and though she couldn't make out his words, she knew it had to be a joke because the others all laughed. Romily sat down, and Teela sat beside her. Before they started work again, though, Romily said, "Who is your friend who was taken by this foul demon in female form?"

Teela bit her lip and looked toward the doorway. Getting up, she shut the door and sat down again. "Can you keep a secret? The others who are working with us all know, so I think you probably ought to as well, in case one of them says something."

"I will keep it to my grave!" Romily declared.

Teela started to say that wasn't necessary, but decided against it. In a way, it was necessary. She didn't think the king planned to tell very many people what had happened to Adam. "It was Prince Adam," she said.

"The prince?" Romily exclaimed with wide eyes. "I had heard that he was ill, but no one breathed a word about him being missing at any point."

"He was gone for nearly four days," Teela said, struggling to hold back tears. "We had no idea where he was or who had him or even if he was alive or not."

"How utterly dreadful!" Romily cried. "And you're in love with him, aren't you?"

"I didn't know that then," said Teela, and then flushed, for she had just admitted it aloud. "I mean, I'm not. I mean, I couldn't be . . . I'm just his friend . . . and he isn't ready . . . and even if he was . . . I'm only a guard and he's a prince and . . ." Teela was babbling and knew it, but she couldn't seem to stop. To her abject embarrassment, she burst into tears. Romily threw her arms around her and held her tightly.

"I understand completely," she said, sniffing slightly herself. "Sanviro insisted that he was not worthy of me and I had to take steps to persuade him he was. Just tell him how you feel."

"I can't do anything like that!" Teela wailed. "He's so unhappy and so fragile right now!"

Romily paused and then spoke in hushed tones. "What did she do to him?"

Teela looked up, appalled by what she had done. Nothing came out of her mouth but a strange sort of strangled squeak. Romily didn't deserve to learn about this in this way. It wasn't fair to her, but it was too late.

"What did she do?" Romily asked again, gently insistent.

The door opened and Nalineph walked in. Teela turned away, trying to hide her tearstained face. She could hear bodies bumping into each other in the doorway, and a low-voiced conversation. "Is she crying?" That was Esbie and Teela's cheeks burned with humiliation. A moment later she heard Elira's voice and the door closed again.

"They're gone," Romily said softly.

"I'm sorry," Teela said miserably. "I meant to tell you what was going on last night, but we were both tired and you fell asleep so quickly after your bath . . ."

Romily nodded impatiently. "I understand completely, but tell me now. Please? Unless, have you been sworn to secrecy?"

Teela blanched. "Um . . . give me just a second." She pulled her comlink off her belt and pressed the button that linked her directly to her father.

"Man-at-Arms," he said.

"Father?" she said, and her voice wobbled a little.

"Teela? What's wrong?" His voice sounded very concerned.

"Why?" she asked, and sniffed, much to her consternation.

"You're crying," he said.

"Allergies," she lied. He grunted as if he didn't believe it but wasn't going to press her. "Father, I need to ask you something."

"All right?"

"Can I tell Romily what's going on?"

He was silent, but she could still hear the crackle of the connection. Finally, he said, "Yes. Just make sure she understands that she mustn't speak of it. Oh, and her father and the Mayor of Yalin know it as well."

"Thank you, Father."

"Perhaps you should take her up to your room to tell her. It would be kinder, I think, to do it somewhere private."

"Of course, Father," she said. "This was . . ." she sniffed again, and paused to regain control of her voice, " . . . unplanned."

"Very well," he said. "Do you need me to come back?" He was out on a patrol, because while Skeletor had been inactive for the past few days, they couldn't count on that remaining true for long.

"No, Father," she said, "I'll be fine."

"Good. I'll see the two of you for dinner tonight." Then he clicked off and Teela turned back to Romily, who stood up and pulled out a handkerchief.

"Let's get you presentable," she said.

A few minutes later, Teela stuck her head into the room they'd been using for their lunch space. "We're going to be upstairs for awhile. Sorry about that."

"Are you okay?" Nalineph asked, standing up.

"I'm fine," she said, giving him a cheerful smile. "See you all later." Then she withdrew her head and went up to her suite with Romily. They settled on the sofa in the sitting room and Romily gazed fixedly at her, clearly waiting. Teela wasn't sure where to start.

"Please tell me what happened, what you think is happening to Sanviro."

Teela took a deep breath. "Daviona, the woman who took Sanviro, is a wizard and a . . . I guess the word 'chemist' is the best one to use. She makes drugs, very carefully designed drugs."

"Drugs? You mean like medicines?" Romily asked.

"Not exactly." Teela bit her lip, not wanting to say what she had to say. "She makes a practice of taking young men into her service against their will," she said. "And what she does . . . she controls them with magic and drugs."

"But what does she make them do?" Romily begged.

"Everything," Teela said helplessly. "They act as servants and guards and . . . toys."

"Toys? I don't . . . I don't understand." From the pause and the horrified expression on her face, Teela had a feeling she did understand, she just didn't want to believe it.

"Using magic and drugs she makes them have sex with her," she said, looking down at her hands, watching as tears started splashing there. "And she draws energy out of them to do more magic."

"She . . . they have sex with her?" Romily said, sounding distraught.

"She rapes them," Teela said, looking at Romily's face uncomfortably. "They have no way to say no, and no chance of escape."

"But she's a woman," Romily said. "She can't be very big."

"With magic she doesn't have to be," Teela said. "She could use spells to make them freeze or knock them out. She did that once to Adam." She shivered. "And the drugs did stuff like that, too, changed the way they thought and how they reacted. I know there was one drug that she gave Adam that made it so his muscles didn't work right. He couldn't move at all." Romily's eyes were wide with shock. "And it made it so that he couldn't help but react to her . . . to what she . . ." Teela choked up and looked down at her hands. "She raped him, over and over again, and he couldn't do anything to stop her."

"By the Elders," Romily murmured. "But I thought sex was different for men. That they . . ." She trailed off, evidently finding no words for what she meant.

"Adam is utterly devastated," Teela said. "He'd never had . . . he was a . . ." She flushed. "He's very uncomfortable around women now, and it's hard to be sure what you can say or do when you're with him. He . . . he . . ." She shook her head, the tears pouring down her face. She couldn't tell Romily about the suicide attempt. She gulped. "Oh, and there's a burn – a brand – on his arm."

"A brand?" Romily cried in horror. "She branded the prince?"

"She branded all of them," Teela said. "I haven't been explaining this very well. When we found Adam, he was in an underground complex that she lived in with twelve of these serving men and two boys who were too young but who she was training."

"Twelve?" Romily breathed. "What would she do with so many?"

"They were servants and guards as well as sources of energy. They cooked her food, they cleaned her home, they made her clothes, for all I know they bathed her, too." Teela snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised. Ordinarily, she would grab them at age twelve and then train them until they were old enough to serve her fully, then she'd start having sex with them and draining them of energy. By then they were so conditioned that they didn't even know a choice existed."

"That's monstrous!"

"It is," Teela agreed. "And then when they were too old, she'd kill them." She gulped. "She's been at this for something around four hundred and fifty years."

"Is she human?"

"Yes," Teela said. "She uses the energy she gets from the men she takes to prolong her life. And she used the men she had to control new people she brought in. Now that she's had them taken, I expect she's had to use a lot more magic and drugs to control the two she has now."

"She has two? Sanviro and someone else?"

Teela nodded. "Jeclarren. He's a nineteen-year-old carpenter from Tronak, also an orphan."

"So he's not alone?"

"I don't know, they were in different cells in the first place she had them," Teela said. "And she kept Adam alone when she wasn't doing things to him. I don't know what's she's doing in that respect. But she had to take older men because she needs the magical energy. You see, she still wants Adam."

"What?" Romily said, eyes round. "She still wants the prince? Oh! Poor Prince Adam. He's such a sweet-natured, gentle young man. He must have suffered greatly, and now that hideous awful woman wants to hurt him again?"

Teela blinked uncertainly at the girl in front of her. "Have you met Adam?" she asked.

"No, of course not," Romily replied. "But I've heard often of his goodness and compassion. People say that he's sweet and kind, and that he helps anyone who asks for it. Isn't it true?"

"Oh yes," Teela said. "That's why I asked. I didn't know people talked that way about him." She thought back on some of the things she'd said about him in the past and felt like a shrew.

"He is well loved by his people," Romily said, smiling.

Teela smiled back through her tears. "Well, there are a few things I need to warn you about. When we find Sanviro, he's bound to be badly upset." Romily nodded, and started to speak, but Teela shook her head. "No, listen. He may not be ready to see you right away," she said. "The first time Adam saw me, he completely freaked out, and that was two days after he got back. Before that he wasn't even able to react coherently to anyone. His parents took care of him in the infirmary, and he didn't see anyone but them and the chief healer."

"Why wouldn't he want to see me?" Romily asked, seeming baffled.

"Because you're female, and he thinks of you in a . . . at least, if you're engaged, I'd imagine he thinks of you in a . . . in a sexual way. He may be alarmed by your presence and uncomfortable about it." She grimaced. "He may also be afraid you'll blame him for having been raped." She scrubbed at the tears on her cheeks. "Adam felt guilty, like he'd done something wrong, when there was nothing he could have done differently than he did."

"So he may not want to see me?" she repeated, shoulders drooping pathetically.

"But don't think it's about you," Teela hastened to assure her. "I'm sure he still feels the same way, but he's bound to be badly messed up by what's happening." Romily nodded dejectedly. "Adam was only gone four days, and he was . . ." Teela looked down at her hands. "He was incredibly badly traumatized."

"So what can we do to help him?"

"Well, is there anyone, preferably male, that Sanviro feels close to?"

"Possibly the tanner who took him in, maybe my father."

"And we'll have to get the drugs out of his system. If she's using the same ones she used on Adam, that will take time, and . . . it's been more than a week. The drugs are addictive. Adam wasn't on them long enough for that to be a serious issue, but after as much time . . ."

"Addictive!" Romily cried. "He'll need them forever?"

Teela shook her head. "No, I don't think so. They can wean him off of them, I'm pretty sure."

"What about this Jeclarren?" Romily asked suddenly. "Does he have anybody to take care of him?"

"No," Teela said. "We've had people check, but he's got no family and no close friends that we can locate. He seems pretty alone in the world. But that's the kind of person Daviona looks for, because when they go missing, no one really notices."

"Then why did she take Sanviro?"

"I think she made a mistake. She was in a hurry, and she didn't look closely enough at him."

"So if she . . ." Romily's face screwed up. "So it really _is_ my fault!"

"What?" Teela exclaimed. "No, it's not. It can't be your fault."

"He wouldn't have been alone, he wouldn't have been vulnerable if I hadn't been so horrible to him!" Romily sobbed. "If I hadn't said all those cruel things to him, none of this would have happened."

"I know how you feel," Teela said, feeling tears spring anew to her own eyes.

"How can you?" Romily asked. "It isn't your fault that Prince Adam was taken."

"But it is!" Teela wailed. "I was his guard. I was supposed to be watching out for him. And he thought there was trouble and I . . . I . . . I ignored him!"

They flung their arms around each other and bawled.

* * *

Jeclarren woke up feeling unbelievably stiff and sore. The bed was unfamiliar, and he had no idea where he was or where had been the night before. _How drunk did I get?_ he wondered. _What a truly horrific dream I had._ He squinted his eyes together, preparatory to opening them, but then he heard something that made him sit bolt upright.

"Isn't he awake yet?" asked Daviona in a disgustingly cheerful voice. He stared across the room at her, shocked fully aware by her presence. Sanviro started up from his seat at the table and came over with a cup of water. "Good, take good care of him, Sanviro," Daviona said.

Sanviro threw an angry look over his shoulder but otherwise ignored her. Jeclarren drank the water his friend gave him, feeling dreadfully disoriented. "What happened?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"She half-killed you," Sanviro said, sounding quietly furious. "Don't you remember yesterday, how tired you were when she got done with you?"

Jeclarren squinted his eyes and tried to think. "Um . . . just a minute," he said, and, shoving himself upright, he stumbled over to the privy, noticing in passing that Daviona was gone from the door. Sanviro hovered close by and caught him when he started to stumble. "I'm fine," Jeclarren said, feeling still very stiff. "How long did I sleep?"

"It's been more than twelve hours," Sanviro said. "I'm sure of that. She gave me something that was supposed to help you sleep. When you stayed asleep so long, and so deeply, I thought maybe she'd gotten me to poison you."

He sat down at the table, almost falling into the chair. "She said my stamina was increasing. I think she might have been wrong."

"Well, she told me that she was going to give us both today off, and then tomorrow would be my next . . ." His voice faltered. "My next turn."

"Damn her!" Jeclarren growled, putting his head in his hands on the table. "Why can't she just leave us alone?"

Sanviro sat down across from him and said, "Here's your breakfast. I'm afraid she made me do the cooking, and um . . . I don't cook."

Jeclarren looked down at the unappetizing food and started eating. He needed to keep his strength up, and with as dead as he'd felt last night, he would have to eat to refuel his body. He'd always been lean, but he'd lost weight since coming here. So had Sanviro, he thought, though that was harder for him to judge.

"She took you into that kitchen?"

Sanviro nodded. "She sure talks to herself a lot," he said. "I couldn't make any sense of what she said. She went on and on about someone named Adam, and how much power he had inside him, and how much she wants him back."

Jeclarren nodded. "I know. She talks about it all the time," he said. He looked down at his plate in surprise. There didn't appear to be any food left on it. Sanviro pulled it away and held out a hand for the fork. Jeclarren gave it to him and he took them and put them on top of his own on the shelf by the door where they could be easily grabbed in the morning to take them on to the kitchen for cleaning.

"Did she . . ." started Sanviro, then stopped. He walked back over to the table and sat down, an uneasy question lurking in his eyes.

"Did she what?"

"Did she do anything . . . odd, yesterday?"

Jeclarren blinked, thinking. "No, it was just more of the same. 'More' being the operative word. I think it was longer than usual, but there was nothing odd about it. Just sex."

Sanviro seemed to sag with relief. "I've had horrible thoughts all night," he said. "What little sleep I got was filled with nightmares."

"What did she tell you?"

"Just that you were exhausted and near collapse, and that she needed my help to get you back here. Then she gave me that cup and said you might have trouble actually falling asleep, so I was to give you some and it would help."

Jeclarren looked down at the table and grimaced. He was beginning to wake up more completely. "Did she say anything else?"

"She kept talking about the ingredients she needed for spells, and she said something about needing a sacrifice."

"A sacrifice?" Jeclarren repeated. "What kind of sacrifice?"

"It wasn't very clear," Sanviro said.

"Somehow I don't see Herself sacrificing anything that would mean the slightest discomfort for her," Jeclarren said sourly.

"It does seem unlikely, doesn't it?" Sanviro said. "Jeclarren, I'm not sure you don't need to lie down again. You look terrible."

"You're not looking wonderful yourself," Jeclarren said, really looking at the other man for the first time since waking up. He had bags under his eyes and there was a pallor under his skin. "I won't go back to bed unless you do."

"I had a dreadful time sleeping last night," Sanviro said. "I had horrible dreams, and you were so quiet that I kept waking up to check on you and make sure you were still alive."

"Sounds cheery," Jeclarren said. He stood up. "Come on, let's both take a nap."

Sanviro nodded and followed him over to the beds. Jeclarren climbed onto his and pulled the covers up. A moment later he looked up and saw that Sanviro was standing beside the bed, gazing at him with a pathetic expression. He gave the boy a grin and lifted the blanket. Sanviro lay down in front of him and Jeclarren draped the blanket and an arm around his friend. They snuggled close, spoon-style, and slept.


	41. Chapter 41

_Gentle Readers:_

_Just a note to answer a few comments I have received. I have gotten reviews that praise me for my treatment of Adam's recovery process and others that suggest that the story has bogged down on said recovery process. To the former, I say thank you, to the latter, I say I'm very sorry. It takes time to recover from an experience like the one Adam has had, and I personally get tired of stories that treat rape and molestation as a horrible experience that it nevertheless takes about two weeks to recover from. Given the outrageous nature of the crimes that were committed against Adam, the drugging as well as the abuse, a long recovery time is guaranteed. If I'm going to write stories that include such awful events, I don't intend to minimize them by having my heroes pop up within a few days and declare themselves free of problems _– _and have it be true. _

_Sorry, rant complete. Forgive me. _

_Eideann_

* * *

**Chapter 41**

Duncan was worried. His daughter, his normally stalwart and fearless daughter, had been crying. He was certain of it, and he didn't know why. She had told him not to come home, but she'd tell him that no matter what was wrong. He knew she wouldn't want to interfere with his job. Unfortunately, she had failed dismally at that.

He gave up, finally, left Stratos in charge, and headed back to the palace.

Going up the stairs two at a time, he went into the suite they shared. Teela and Romily were on the sofa in the middle of the room and the door opening caught Teela in midsentence. Neither girl seemed to notice his entrance immediately. Teela's eyes were swollen and her nose was a brilliant scarlet.

" – can't tell him how I feel. If I tell Adam I love him right now, he'll fall to pieces. He needs me as a friend, not as a . . . as . . ." Teela shook her head. "He keeps saying that he never wants to . . . well, you know. And I – I don't know what to do!"

"It will pass," Romily said. "I hope." Her eyes were wide with distress.

Duncan stood frozen in the doorway, aware that he was most definitely invading their privacy, but uncertain how he could either move forward or retreat. _Teela loves Adam? In a non-sisterly way?_ He knew he should make some kind of noise to alert them to his presence, but he couldn't make his voice work.

"And I don't have anyone to ask. His mother is the closest thing I have to a mother, and she's a little busy with him right now."

"Well, if he's as fragile as you've said, then maybe you should just go on as you have until he's feeling better. You can talk to her then."

Teela nodded, grimaced and said, "I must look like an idiot. I never cry."

Romily gave her a small smile and said, "Why would you look like an idiot? Were you afraid you weren't doing it right?"

Teela stared at her for a long moment, then she began to giggle helplessly, almost as if she was verging on hysteria. Duncan decided his best bet would be to withdraw and come in again, more noisily this time. When he started to take a step back, though, his movement drew Romily's attention and she gave a little shriek of alarm.

At the sound, Teela leapt to her feet and extended her staff, turning to face the door. She stared at her father, eyes wide with shock, then collapsed her staff. "Is something wrong?" she asked. "Did something happen?"

He shook his head. "I was worried, and wanted to look in on you."

"I'm fine," she said, rubbing her cheek as if to rid it of tear streaks. Teela would never, however, be a woman who could cry and hide the fact. Her complexion would give her away in an instant. "How long have you been there?"

"Not long," he said, hoping she wouldn't ask for more details. Shutting the door behind him, he walked over to her and gave her a tight hug. "Are you all right?"

"Of course, I am," she said stoically, trying to put on a brave face for him. The effort was rather spoiled when the tears started running down her face again. "I'm fine," she said, sniffling.

He put a hand on her cheek, brushing the tears away. "It's all right to be upset, Teela. We all are, you know that."

"Getting weepy doesn't do anyone any good," Teela growled.

He kissed her on the top of the head. "I've gotten weepy a time or two myself, if you recall," he said softly. "It might do you some good to get it out of your system." Romily was hovering beyond Teela, and he smiled at the girl. "Did you have a pleasant visit with your father, this morning?"

"Yes, sir," she said, bobbing slightly.

Duncan wished she wouldn't do that. It wasn't necessary, but he had no idea how to get that across to her without frightening her or making her dreadfully uncomfortable.

Teela let out a snort of laughter. "Romily, my father isn't someone to curtsey to," she said. "He's just . . . he's just my father."

Romily seemed unconvinced. She flushed and wouldn't meet his eyes. He smiled at her again and said, "Would you mind giving me a few moments alone with Teela?"

"Of course not, sir," she exclaimed, bobbing again. "I'll just go back to work."

He nodded. "I'll have someone fetch you when it's time for dinner," he said. She reached out and gave Teela's hand a quick squeeze, then left the room.

Teela looked up at him, tears still lurking in her eyes. "I should probably get back to work, too," she said.

"I think you need some time off, and I haven't seen you for more than five minutes at a time all week. There are four very competent people down there already, and Romily's on her way to help. I think you can afford to stay here with me for awhile."

She gazed into his eyes for a long moment, then threw herself on him, weeping. She didn't say anything for a long while, she just cried and he held her. Finally, she drew back and said, "Why does everything have to be so horrible?"

"I wish I had an answer," he said helplessly. He shrugged out of his armor, dropping it on the floor and sat down with her on the sofa. She leaned against him, sniffling, tears still rolling down her cheeks. "If I could say, 'the benefit is thus,' it might be easier to deal with it all, but I can't."

"You know, the common people think of Adam as a sweet, gentle innocent, and they're right. Adam's never done anything to hurt another soul. Even when we were little, he was always like that. Why did something like this have to happen to him?"

"Bad things happen," he said. "We can't always prevent them."

"I've been so rotten to him, and the worst he's done in return is walk away from me without answering. Why did I have to be so mean?"

He shook his head. "Teela, don't worry about that now. I'm sure Adam isn't thinking about it."

She sniffled. "I've been horrid to him, and I ignored him when he said there was trouble in the forest, and he still seems to worry about me and . . . I don't deserve it! I don't deserve him!"

"Now Teela, stop being so hard yourself. No one blames you for what happened."

"That just makes it worse!" she moaned. "I screwed up and no one seems to think I did anything wrong!"

"Teela, beating yourself up about it isn't going to do any good for you or for Adam. You know what your mistake was, and you won't make it again."

"But what am I supposed to do? How do I . . . what do I . . ." She dissolved into tears again and he rocked her like he had when she was small.

"We all feel that way, Teela. None of us is sure what to do, and we all have things we know we could have, and maybe should have done differently. All we can do is go on and try to do better in the future."

"But I – I love him!" Teela wailed. "And I'm not worthy. I haven't proven –"

"Dearheart, stop it," he said. "You love him in a romantic way?" She nodded, her eyes widening, as if she hadn't intended to tell him. "I heard you talking to Romily earlier, and I think you've got the right idea. He's not ready to hear that right now, but when he is, I don't think he'll find you unworthy."

"But –"

He gathered her into his arms and held her close. "You are a beautiful, intelligent, courageous and compassionate young woman, Teela. You have nothing to worry about."

"I'm not any of those things," she said, looking up at him. "I'm stupid and thoughtless."

"You are not stupid," he replied firmly, tweaking her nose. "And you may have been thoughtless, but that's curable. Don't worry, dearheart."

"But he's so badly traumatized. What do I do?"

"Just what you said to Romily. Be his friend, be supportive. I think you're right to think that he isn't ready to hear that from anyone yet, and it's very perceptive of you to recognize that."

Teela leaned against him for a few moments, sniffling occasionally, her tears obviously waning. "I love you, Father."

"I love you, too, Teela."

* * *

After Marlena had brought Adam a drink, she'd gone back out into the sitting room. Randor read aloud until Adam was clearly asleep and snoring, then carefully marked the page of that book and picked up the other.

Eventually, Marlena came back and walked over to the bed, looking down at their slumbering child, who was "How long did it take for him to fall asleep?"

"About ten pages," Randor replied, lowering his book. "He feels very warm."

She bent and touched Adam's forehead, brushing his hair back. "Nothing beyond what an ordinary sickness might cause," she said.

He smiled up at her. "Thanks, I've never been a good judge of that."

Marlena sat on the edge of the bed and took Randor's hand. "I know, dear," she said. "He'll be fine tomorrow."

They sat in silence for several moments of rare calm, holding hands across their son. Then Randor cleared his throat. "Did you learn anything of interest from the others?"

She nodded. "Orko and the Sorceress are doing some testing on the treatment for the conditioning drug that Orko's come up with. They're working in the other bedroom, because Dorgan wants to observe."

"Did they seem to think it was promising?"

"It's hard to say. They were being very careful in front of me. I don't think they want to get our hopes up too high in case it turns out not to work as well as they want it to."

"If we didn't have Orko . . ." Randor let his words trail off and his wife squeezed his hand.

"I know," she said, smiling. She stood up again and walked around to Randor's left side and said, "Scoot over a little, if you can."

Very gently, he shifted Adam to the right, giving Marlena enough space to sit down beside him. She tucked herself into the crook of his arm and cuddled up close. He squeezed her briefly, then just held her. "We'll ge through this, all three of us," he said.

She tilted her head back till he could look into her eyes. She was smiling. "Yes, we will."

* * *

Adam awoke the next day feeling almost normal. He poked his father and said, "I'm going to go bathe."

Yawning blearily and stretching, the king rose with him and followed him into the bathing chamber. Adam got cleaned up, and the water on his skin felt very ordinary. His father must have noticed something as Adam pulled on his robe, because he said, "What's got you grinning so early in the morning?"

"I feel great," Adam said. "I can't feel everything in my skin the way I have been."

"That's wonderful," Randor said, smiling. "Anything else to report?"

Cocking his head, Adam considered the question, stroking his chin the way Duncan always did when he got thoughtful. He blinked in astonishment. "Well, I think I need to shave, for one," he said, feeling the down that seemed to have sprung out on his face overnight. "Dad, I'm going to have to borrow your razor –" he started, turning, but his father had gone a pasty white. Adam blanched and one of his hands crept toward the healing wound on his arm. "I didn't mean – I – there's hair on my –" Tears started abruptly and Adam tried to turn away so his father wouldn't see.

"I know, Adam," his father said, crossing the distance between them and putting his arm around his shoulders. "I know, son, it's all right." Adam folded his arms across his chest, looking down and sniffing. His father pulled him over to the bench and, turning him to face him, sat down, keeping his hands on Adam's shoulders. "I'm sorry for my reaction."

"Getting a beard is supposed to be a good thing," Adam groaned. "I always wanted a beard. I used to make fake ones when I was little, because I wanted . . ." He looked up at his father's face. "I thought it would make me look like you."

"It is a good thing," his father said. "I overreacted, and –"

Adam shook his head furiously. "You didn't," he insisted. "It hasn't even been a week since . . . and I can see why you would react that way. I didn't think."

"You shouldn't have to think about things like that," his father said, looking perilously close to tears himself.

"I hate this!" Adam growled. "I want to be normal, to be okay, right now! I'm tired of all these unknown pitfalls that pop up out of nowhere to sabotage happy moments." He bit his lip and pulled away to sit down on the bench next to Randor. "It's just going to keep happening, though. I can see it, five years from now, someone turns to me and says something that makes me think of Daviona and it will all rush back, as near and as painful as it is now." He scrubbed at his face. "And when will I stop this wretched leaking every time something happens?"

"I wish I could fix it," his father said, putting his arm back around his shoulders. Adam slumped. "I wish I could make it all better."

"Like you could when I was little?" Adam asked. "I still remember you coming in when I had nightmares. I had some pretty bad ones about Phillip, if I recall. About him dying in that forest fire. And you'd come in and tell me it was a dream and then you'd tell me a story, and I could sleep again."

His father's voice sounded very thick when he answered. "Yes, like that."

"I guess that doesn't work so well when you grow up, does it?" Adam said.

"No, it doesn't," the king said, sighing. "I remember many a time when my grandfather would do the same for me, but your worries change as you get older, get harder to banish."

Adam leaned against his father, trying to imagine him as a little boy. It was hard. "Your father didn't help you with things like that?" he asked.

"He wasn't really there all that much," Randor said. "He had his duties in the army, and with my mother gone, Grandfather raised me. You know that."

Adam nodded. He did, but he'd never really put it together. "I'm glad you were there when I was little," he said.

"I loved my father, idolized him," Randor said. "But he was never a man to me, he was always Captain Mirro, the distant hero of the wars. My grandfather was the one who saw that I was fed and clothed and loved and properly disciplined. Not that Father wouldn't have done something about it if I wasn't, but . . ." Adam's father shrugged. "I never wanted to be a distant ideal for you."

Adam thought back on all the time that they had spent together, time that he knew now had been stolen from meetings and receptions and the other work that a king does. "I love you," he said. The arm around his shoulders tightened, and he looked up to see his father brushing away tears.

"I love you, too, son. I'm sorry I've been so harsh of –"

Adam shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters, I –"

Catching his father's hand Adam shook his head again. "No, it doesn't, because, now, when I really need you, you're here. I know how hard that is, and I know that you're here because you care, not because you think you should be. It means a lot to me that you're here."

* * *

Randor squeezed his son more tightly, and smiled down at him. Adam didn't need to hear right now what his father thought of his own neglect. It wouldn't make him feel better, in fact it would have quite the opposite effect. "I couldn't be anywhere else," he said.

There was a knocking on the door, a light hesitant rapping. "Are you two all right in there?" asked Marlena.

Adam grinned. "We're fine, Mom." He stood up. "Maybe I should go out and let you get yourself cleaned up," he said.

Randor smiled up at him, then reached up and tweaked his chin. "You do that. I'll be out shortly." He stood up and gave Adam a hug. "Run along and spend some time with your mother."

Adam left and he heard the sound of coversation start outside the door and move away. He stretched and began his own morning ritual.

It was tearing Marlena apart that Adam sought him for comfort rather than her. She hid it well, but they had known each other too intimately for far too long for him to miss the signs. He knew she didn't begrudge him his new closeness with their son, but it hurt her that Adam didn't seem to need her the same way. They hadn't talked of it, with Adam always so close by, moments alone were few, and Randor wished he could do more to help her.

Perhaps Adam's need for him would lessen somewhat when the conditioning drug was out of his system. To his surprise, Randor discovered on consideration that he wasn't really pleased by that notion. Of course they couldn't go through the rest of their lives constantly in each other's pockets, and Adam would have to be able to go on without him at some point in the future, but this bond they shared right now was one of the few positive things that had happened.

Randor wondered how soon Adam would be comfortable sleeping alone. He'd have to once they were back at the palace, wouldn't he? Even with the royal wing restricted, there would be people who came in and out, and servants were only human. Something that unusual would get them talking. It was something to be considered, and discussed with Adam. He would have to be aware of all the decisions they made that would affect him, and he was old enough that he should take part in as many of them as he reasonably could.

He was proud of the way Adam was bearing up under all this stress and grief. He only hoped that returning home would not prove to be more strain than his son could handle. Randor wasn't sure if Adam realized that being at the palace would provide new pressures that he hadn't had to deal with either in the infirmary or at Grayskull.

Visitors here were sharply controlled, and so far they'd only included the masters and a few of the guards that Adam had grown up with. Once they were back at the palace, there would be things Randor couldn't avoid doing, though he was damned if he wasn't going to spend every minute he could with Adam until the boy no longer needed him so much. Jenkins could continue to triage things, bringing him only the items that he alone could deal with. They could set up times for the less weighty matters and speed through them. Perhaps the secretary could create some kind of a listing of issues that Randor could read through and make decisions about what he had to handle. Perhaps when Adam was feeling better he could accompany his father in the performance of his duties.

Feeling obscurely guilty that he was even thinking about his kingly duties with Adam still so very upset, Randor finished getting ready for the day. He couldn't shave until he left the suite and went into the next room, and he wondered how they were going to have Adam shave. Light and downy as the hair was, it was present, and a boy deserved to shave when he was ready.

_He isn't as depressed as he was, and I'll be with him._ Randor nodded. _I'll go get my new razor and bring it back with me and we'll shave together._ Duncan had taken the razor Adam had used in his suicide attempt and disposed of it, bringing back a replacement that resembled the other only in function.

He walked out into the bedroom. It was empty so he dressed quickly and went out into the sitting room. Adam was sitting eating breakfast with his mother, whose eyes were fixed on the fuzz on his chin. She had clearly noted the oncoming signs of maturity, and he wasn't altogether certain she approved.

He sat down with them and Dorgan joined them a few minutes later. They talked of commonplaces until Dorgan looked up and noticed the hair on Adam's chin. "Where did that come from?" he asked.

Adam shrugged, looking quizzically at him. "It's natural, isn't it?"

"But . . ." Dorgan didn't finish what he had to say, but Randor suddenly realized what was disturbing him. He was remembering that Adam wasn't supposed to be aging. What had changed? He met Dorgan's eyes briefly and nodded. He swallowed the bite he'd taken and stood up.

"I need to go get my shaving tackle," he said. "It's time Adam learned to shave." Marlena nodded and Adam looked pleased. "If you will all excuse me?" Tousling Adam's hair, he left the room.

Once in the hallway, he looked up. It was probably silly, but when he wanted to talk to the Sorceress, or when she spoke in his mind, he always looked up, as if that was where she was located. _"Sorceress?"_

"_Yes, Randor?"_

"_I don't know if you've been monitoring our conversation at all?"_

"_No, I've been searching for Daviona. Is there something of concern?"_

Randor nodded. _"Adam's – this may seem paltry, but Adam's grown facial hair. If he's not aging, how is that possible?"_

"_I don't know. I will come by in an hour or so to see what I can determine. Orko's working on the finer points of the spell we think will remove the conditioning drug from Adam's system."_

"_Then it will work?"_ he asked eagerly.

"_I do believe so,"_ she said. _"Dorgan approved it, and says it can be performed without the necessity of removing the blood from the body. It doesn't create as much of a stir in the blood. The bond is simply dissolved."_

Randor sighed in relief. _"That's a mercy. I'm not sure Adam could take many more of those treatments."_

"_He is a very strong-willed young man,"_ she said. _"He will be able to do what must be done."_

He pursed his lips. _"True, but I'm glad he won't have to face more of that."_

"_I agree,"_ she said, and he could sense that she was almost as concerned as he was about it. "_I only wish I could find Daviona. I think that would do him a world of good, to know she was no longer out there, harming others and scheming to get him."_

"_It would,_" Randor agreed. _"But right now I think he most wants these drugs and spells out of his system so he can feel normal again."_

"_I can understand that. I will come in an hour."_ And she was gone. Randor fetched his shaving tackle and went back into the sitting room where Mekanek had arrived during his absence.

"Mek, you want to watch Adam learn to shave?"

Adam's eyes widened with shock and embarrassment. "Dad!"

Mekanek raised his neck slightly and said, "Sure!"

* * *

Daviona settled more firmly in her chair, looking at her list. She had drawn too much from Jeclarren and Sanviro, but she needed so much power . . . They were settling in nicely, though, so she couldn't afford to lose them. They would form a solid core around which to build her new phalanx of guards. Even without the conditioning drug or any suggestions from her, they were bonding well to each other, and they were acclimating to what was expected of them.

Inadvertently killing one of them would damage the other's progress materially. She was going to have to find additional sources of energy to help her prepare to take Adam back. Preferably sources she could drain to the dregs. There was an additional kick that could be drawn off a dying man. But she would have to wait a little longer before going back out into the open, and she would have to do some form of illusion to avoid being recognized from the broadsides that Randor was having circulated.

Blast the man, he was making things very difficult. And now she was running low on ingredients. She had what she needed to make the simple aphrodisiacs and physical controlling drugs she was using, but she had used all she had of one of the ingredients for the conditioning drug in the batch that had to be abandoned. She wouldn't be able to properly bind Jeclarren and Sanviro to her until she could make more, and she wouldn't be able to bring more young men into her service until Jeclarren and Sanviro were completely bound.

And it was the wrong season entirely to purchase dranssa weed, so she wouldn't be able to make more until spring. Sneaking into her old home would be a bad choice, they would expect her there, and she doubted very much that her drug stores were still there. Anyone she took would have to be strictly temporary.

Now she was running low on the ingredients for the aphrodisiacs, and those she couldn't do without. She would have to go out soon to rebuild her stocks. When she did that, she could find herself a young man or two, get news of Randor's activities, then drain them of power.

That would do nicely to fill in the gaps.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

"Davina Romiz," Romily said excitedly. "Does that sound right? I know it's not exactly the same name, but –"

Teela stood up and looked over Romily's shoulder at the tax rolls. "By the Elders," she breathed. "It's the right plot of land. Look, it's property tax for that holding outside of Tronak, three hundred years ago."

"You're kidding." Elira stood up and walked over to peer at the pages too. "Derward, start tracing the ownership of that land. Maybe we can make some other connections, find other places she might be."

The young man nodded and said, "What year?" Elira glanced down, told him, and he started sorting quickly through the documents on the table and flipping through an old ledger.

"What's that?" Romily asked.

"It's a record of property transfers from about that time," he said. "We should be able to trace when she purchased the . . ." He slowed and paused. "Davina Romiz . . . inherited the land from her mother." He read off the year. "We need to find when 'her mother' bought the land. It appears she used her real mother's name to buy it, by the way. Malea Romis." Derward started scanning backwards through the book, looking for the right reference.

Teela watched with bated breath, but then a thought occurred to her. What was the point? What was finding out when Daviona bought that particular piece of land going to tell them about where she was now? She drew back, feeling her eyes starting to burn. Her father would say that no knowledge is ever wasted, but this wasn't getting them anywhere. She wasn't accomplishing anything that would have any meaning to Adam.

"Here it is," Derward said. "'Malea Rumis' bought that land within ten years of Daviona's disappearance with Darien. She wasn't very skilled at subterfuge, but I guess it was enough for her fellow villagers since they didn't locate her or Darien."

"I doubt they tried very hard," Esbie said. Everyone swiveled to look at him, startled. He'd been reading those diaries, but he hadn't said much about what he'd discovered. "He wasn't a very popular person in the town, or so I gather. Naria was obsessed with him, as I said, but if you read between the lines it becomes clear that he wasn't the nicest person in the world. He seemed to be a bit of a ladies' man, but then he became utterly fixated on Daviona."

"And?" Teela said.

"And she ignored him for awhile, it appears." He shrugged. "Naria was annoyed by it, because it was upsetting him." Esbie shook his head. "I don't entirely understand her thinking, I have to admit. For about six months she babbles on about how cruel Daviona is not to notice that Darien's pining away."

"But I thought she was supposed to be in love with him," Elira protested. "Why would she be upset that another woman wasn't paying attention to him?"

"If you love someone, you have to be willing to see him happy with someone else," Romily said earnestly. "Otherwise it's not really love at all, more possessiveness." They all looked at her and she shrugged. "That's what my mother said."

"So what happened?" Derward asked. "How did they wind up running off together?"

"Darien just kept trying harder and harder to get her attention, and once he had it they were inseparable. Naria did some spying, and I get the feeling she saw some magical draining in process, though her description is less than specific."

"Naria sounds like a charmer, too," Teela said. "What did she say?"

He shook his head. "It's frustratingly vague, but I marked the passage if you want to read it."

Teela nodded. "I do, but later."

"That doesn't sound quite like what we were expecting," Derward said. "Not if he had to persuade her to take an interest in him."

Teela bit her lip. "What does it sound like he was like?" she asked.

"A manipulative jackass," Esbie said without hesitation. "I don't think he ever had the slightest real interest in Naria, he just played with her for awhile and then moved on. The early volumes, from before, during and just after their interlude make that abundantly clear, despite her infatuation coloring events. It's only later, once he'd gone, that she started to idealize him so fully, and demonize her." Esbie seemed to see Teela's face and said, "He was nothing like our Prince Adam, if that's what you're wondering. Once he and Daviona were a pair, he would have done anything for her, and did on occasion. Lie, steal, manipulate. I doubt very much that the good people of Bergeford had any real interest in locating him. It was far more likely that they did the barest minimum required to satisfy the demands of the law."

"It mattered more to them that the land be occupied by someone productive, no doubt," Elira said. "Did it lie empty those years?"

"It did, with the house falling to bits because no one had any interest in maintaining it for an absentee owner," said Derward.

"How did you know?" asked Esbie. "Naria waxes eloquent on her neighbors perfidy in doing so, and bemoans that she hadn't the funds to care for it as Darien deserved."

Derward shrugged. "In some of the documents surrounding the transfer of property there was a notice of intent to demolish the building."

Teela nodded thoughtfully. "I wish we had _Daviona_'s diary," she said in frustration. "I wish we had some way to know what was really going through her mind."

"I don't," Romily said. "She's a foul, unclean creature, and it's better that we don't contaminate ourselves with her filth."

Esbie chuckled. "The well-disciplined mind wouldn't be contaminated, Romily, but you're right in a way. There have been people known to have been drawn into dreadful acts by imitating those who came before them."

"Still," Teela said, "if we had more of a notion of how she thought, we might have better success in figuring out where to look for her now."

Derward closed his ledger and reached for a blank piece of paper, picking up a pen. "All right, then, let's consider that. What do we know about her?"

"She's evil," Romily declared.

Teela sat down again, contemplating Derward's question. Elira sat down as well, but she looked over at Romily. "That's too general. Lots of people are evil, but we need to narrow down what kind of things this woman would do." Romily knit her brows. "Look, all good people don't think alike, right?" Romily nodded. "Not all evil people think alike, either. It's part of what makes trying to fight them a challenge."

"So, what do we know for certain about her?" asked Derward again.

"She's selfish," Teela said slowly. "Just a minute, I need to call my father." They looked up at her curiously as she left the room. Stepping into their break room, she closed the door and activated her com link. "Man-at-Arms?" she said.

"Yes, Teela," he replied almost instantly.

"Are you here at the palace or out in the field?" she asked.

"I'm in the king's office. Is something wrong?"

"No, not wrong," she assured him hastily. He'd been so solicitous the night before over her ridiculous fit of tears that she didn't want to alarm him today. "No, we're just talking about, theorizing really, about Daviona's personality, and I think Raon could add something to the conversation. But if Raon comes, they'll have to know why he knows what he does."

Her father was silent for a long moment, clearly considering her request. "I can see why. Do you think it would benefit our search?"

"Well, deducing something about her personality could help us to know _where_ to search, surely. At the moment we're very much at a dead end in the physical searching because she hasn't been active, and I haven't had any useful dreams." She grimaced. "Besides, with the intelligence concentrated in that room, the insight gained by Esbie from the diaries he's been reading, and Raon's knowledge, we should be able to come up with a few hints as to what she might be doing."

She could almost see him nodding. "Go ahead and tell them. I'll send for Raon. It's not as if we haven't trusted these folks with nearly everything already."

"All right. When should we expect him? I should have a little bit of time to give them the basics of what he's been doing, and I think I'd rather do that before he gets here."

"I'll give you a half hour. It may take me that long to pry Raon away from his task in any case."

Teela nodded. "Thank you, Father."

"Let's hope this collaboration bears fruit."

She went back in to find that they were all discussing possible definitions of the word 'selfish' in this context. They looked up at her as she entered. "Do you mean that she's self-centered or that she wants everything that she can get?" Esbie asked.

"Both, I think," Teela replied. "But we're going to have a little help in drawing this sketch of her personality."

"Indeed?" Elira asked. "How so?"

She sat down and took a deep breath. "What I'm about to tell you is of the utmost secrecy. We are not telling many people at all about this, so you must understand the level of trust being placed in all of you." There were sober nods all around the table. Romily bit her lip, stopping just short of a declaration like the one she'd made yesterday, Teela suspected. "Daviona, in the first compound we found, was recording images of most of what went on down there. Everywhere her servants went, there was constant monitoring, and there are recordings of everything she did with them, everything they did when they were alone, everything they did, period."

"You're kidding," Derward breathed. "Everything?"

"From washing the dishes to branding to sex acts," Teela confirmed, flushing. "I haven't seen any of them, in fact only three people have to my knowledge. My father, the king and Guardsman Raon."

"That's what Sergeant Raon's been doing?" Nalineph blurted. They all turned to stare at him in surprise at his exclamation. He shrugged, looking mildly abashed. "We've all wondered. It just seemed odd for him not to be involved in the search."

Teela nodded. "He's been transcribing all the video images that relate to Prince Adam," she said, noticing that all the eyes widened as they took in the implications of that simple statement. "And I think he's moved on to looking at the images that relate to our other guests, the guards and servants she had. To see if there are hints there about how to rehabilitate them more successfully."

"I take it that there aren't images of the things she did while she was alone?" Esbie asked.

"I haven't heard anything about that, but I don't claim to know everything about them," Teela said. "I haven't seen them, as I said, and Raon's been working in strictest secrecy." _Except for Evil-Lyn,_ Teela thought, but didn't say aloud. _If she and Skeletor start talking, all our efforts at secrecy will have gone for naught._

"Well, then," Esbie said, "maybe we should wait a bit to get into this discussion, till this fellow can join us."

"I'm not sure how much I can contribute," Romily said worriedly. "I don't know anything about her, really, and I'm liable to . . . if I hear much more about what's happened to other young men in her power, I might . . ." She gulped and Elira put a hand on her shoulder.

"If you can hold yourself together, I think we'll find every viewpoint helpful."

Romily nodded and took a deep breath. "If it will help Sanviro, I will do whatever it takes."

"So, who is this Raon?" asked Esbie, looking at Nalineph.

"He's a guardsman," Nalineph said. "His father was in Captain Randor's company, and he's been around the palace for years."

"He used to play with Adam and me when were were little," Teela said, and five heads swiveled toward her. "He's only about three years older than we are, so when he came to live at the palace with his father, we'd all play together."

Derward's eyebrows were raised nearly to his hairline. "He's a personal friend of the prince's and he's watching this . . . this torture?"

"He wouldn't have anyone else do it," Teela said. "He said . . ." She flushed. "I've never seen this stuff, so I don't really know what's there, but he said he wouldn't trust someone who didn't know Adam well to analyze it." She knit her brows, remembering something. "Oh, and I think Orko's seen some of it because he helped them move the equipment. It's powered magically. Everything in that place was powered magically."

"Orko? The jester?" asked Esbie incredulously. "I've seen him do magic tricks, and . . . he helped with the equipment?"

"He's a very good sorcerer!" Teela declared defensively. "He's done an amazing amount for Adam since this happened. Everything that witch does combines magic and chemistry, it seems like, and Orko's been helping the healers and medics work out how best to treat Adam's health issues."

"Don't bite my head off," Esbie said. "I was just asking."

Teela flushed. "I'm sorry, he's just – he's been incredibly helpful, and he's been wearing himself out regularly, trying to keep up with everything everybody needs from him."

"Teela?" Romily asked hesitantly. The captain turned to her new friend. "Didn't you tell me that she uses the men she takes for power – she draws power out of them through sex magic?" Romily was blushing a brilliant crimson as she spoke.

"Yes."

"So, does that mean that she powered her whole complex, the lights and these image makers and all, from what she did to the men she . . . she . . . she tortured?"

Teela was nodding when the door opened and they all turned. Raon entered, and Teela was frankly shocked by how he looked. His hazel eyes were sunken and he had to have lost weight. There was a pallor to his skin that suggested he'd been spending far more time indoors than he normally did, and his sober, introverted air constrasted greatly with the cheerful, gregarious fellow she'd known only a few weeks ago.

Nalineph leapt to his feet, worry in his brown eyes, clearly caught by the change in his fellow guardsman. "Raon, are you all right?"

Raon blinked at him, looking baffled. "I'm fine," he said, allowing Nalineph to guide him to a chair with a dubious expression. "Don't you start nursemaiding me."

Teela glanced at the others around the table. The general unhealthiness of his appearance didn't seem to be obvious to everyone. "Are you sure you're getting enough rest?" she asked.

Raon rolled his eyes. "And don't you start either," he said. "Your father sicced old Belleran on me, she's quite enough nursemaid all on her own." Biting her lips in an effort to keep from laughing, Teela nodded. "It's not funny, either. She insists that I call her Auntie Bella and has set me a firm bedtime."

The other seemed quite taken aback by this. Teela, keeping her expression as neutral as possible, said, "She's very good at managing people."

Raon nodded irritably. "And if I don't do exactly as she says, she calls Man-at-Arms. She has his emergency comlink code." He grimaced. "I don't think it's changed since Adam was in diapers. The first time she bothered him, I expected he'd be annoyed, and he was. At me!"

Teela couldn't help chuckling a little. "Belleran was Adam's nurse, and by extension, mine, when we were little," she explained to the others. "Not that Queen Marlena wasn't there most of the time, but Auntie Bella was very bossy with her, too, if I remember correctly."

"Auntie Bella is bossy with everyone," Raon said. "I remember her telling the king off a time or two when Adam was tiny."

Teela noticed that Derward's lips were twitching as if he were repressing a smile, and Esbie looked as if he were drinking all this information in, as a hint to what daily life was like in the modern Eternian palace, no doubt.

"I'm quite certain she'll be the nanny for Prince Adam's children one day," Raon said. "Elders help him and his future wife."

Teela felt her eyes go very round and her cheeks went hot. After a moment, Romily cleared her throat, and spoke in a cheery voice. "Well, I'm sure she won't be anyone we know," she said. If it was possible, Teela flushed hotter.

After a couple of moments, Raon cleared his throat and said, "As I understand it, I'm supposed to be lending my knowledge of Daviona to an effort to illuminate her personality."

"Right," said Derward. "So far we had gotten the word 'selfish,' and we were trying to define it. Is she simple self-centered, or does she want all she can get?"

This interchange allowed Teela to control her reactions and she looked at Raon curiously. He looked thoughtful. "She's very self-focused," he said. "Other people have no meaning to her except insofar as they can help her or cause her inconvenience." He glanced around at all of them. "How much do you all know? Teela?"

"Pretty close to everything, actually," she said. "Anything they don't know yet, they probably will know before our research is done. I get the feeling that it's easier and more efficient to do research if you have a good base to start from."

"So I can be frank?"

"With the understanding that Romily's betrothed is with Daviona now."

He looked at Romily with sympathy, but he said, "Then you'd better know what to expect, because it's not pretty." She nodded, her eyes bright with tears. "I guess Teela told you what I've been doing." They all nodded, but nobody spoke.

"I said you'd been transcribing the images that regard Adam, and that I thought you might have gotten so far as to be looking at the images of the men who have been serving her most recently."

He shook his head. "Nowhere near that point," he said. "Adam was with her for about ninety hours, and there are image recordings for all of that time. I've been watching each one to write down first, everything that was said, then everything that happened, which takes many many viewings. There has also been a certain amount of emotional analysis involved, which takes even more viewings." Teela's eyes widened.

Derward nodded. "That makes sense. Are you working this project alone?"

"At first Man-at-Arms was working with me, but I think that was just so that he would get a basic understanding of what Adam went through so he could be of assistance in his recovery," Raon said. "Other than that, yes, I've been working alone."

"So you've seen at least ninety hours of this woman's behavior?"

Raon shook his head. "Actually, I don't know how much time I've seen of her. I've been rather focused on Adam, and she wasn't with him all the time."

"Oh," said Derward. "I'd really like to know more about her," he went on.

"I understand that's the goal of this meeting," Raon said, "but, as I said, my focus is Adam." He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "I have viewed some of the recordings of other young men, largely for comparison purposes. She didn't treat Adam the way she treated any of the others. I've done something of a historical survey, and these recordings go back nearly a hundred and fifty years. Her pattern has been fairly consistent over that time, and I've even found the few fellows she's brought in for short term use."

"Short term?" asked Esbie. Teela reached out a hand and squeezed Romily's under the table.

"Yes, since she's been recording, she's always brought her servants in as young boys and trained them. The few times she brought an older boy or a man into the facility, his stay lasted a few weeks at most. She'd use him for sexual energy, then kill him in some way to gain even more power."

Romily's hand tightened almost painfully on Teela's, but neither girl let that fact show on her face. "Is that what she planned to use Adam for?" asked Elira, sounding a little startled.

"No," said Raon firmly. "She talks to herself a lot, though sometimes it sounds as if she's talking to the men." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Do any of you have pets?" Esbie and Elira nodded, but Derward shook his head. "Well, have you ever found yourself talking to an animal or an inanimate object?"

They all nodded, and Teela had trouble imagining how anyone could avoid it. "Well, that's rather how her talking to 'her boys' sounds. Like she's talking to a dog or a cat. No answer expected. Once they're trained, they don't speak much at all in her presence, only if she requires it of them which she doesn't often. When Adam responded to things she said, she treated those remarks as if they were silly or meaningless, or she simply ignored them."

"All right," Derward said. "How did she speak to Adam that was different?"

Raon looked down at his hands on the table. "Well, the poor fellows who were . . . there's no other word for it, sacrifices, couldn't have been under any misapprehension about their purpose, because she talked about her plans all the time. She'd say things like, 'In three more days, I'll be ready to sacrifice you, and then . . .'" He bit his lip. "And she'd go on to describe whatever she intended to do with the energy." He shook his head. "They were so doped up, though, that there wasn't anything they could do but look horrified." He paused for a moment. "The difference is, she told Adam that she was never giving him up, and it was clear she meant it."

There was silence around the table until Teela, feeling that this information was needed after that statement, said, "She put a spell on Adam to make him stop aging."

"By the elders," Esbie murmured.

"So, let's get an idea of her usual method of operations," said Derward. "That will give us a basis for comparison to Adam. It sounds, though, as if a lot of things may have changed apart from her being caught."

Raon nodded and began to outline her procedures. It was somewhat sick-making, the way he described her behavior to the little boys particularly. She didn't molest them, but it was clear that she started training them early to find her sexually alluring. And the way she created and fostered dependence in them was nauseating as well. By the time they were sixteen, they had no chance whatsoever of resisting her, no matter what she asked of them. And that was when she initiated them into full service, as Raon put it. When she started requiring sex of them. After that, they were treated as one of the group, given tasks and permitted to accompany her on her ventures outside the complex.

"But when they were off duty, they spent their time in a sort of brotherhood. All of them lived, ate and worked together. The adults looked after the boys when they were present, and they played games, read books, did fairly ordinary things. But there was no discord. Anything that might inconvenience Daviona was rigidly suppressed, including things like jealousy, boredom, laziness. Individuality. She encouraged them to develop hobbies, both to keep them occupied and to provide her needs."

"So what about the men she brought in as sacrifices?" Nalineph asked.

"They were kept apart, much the way Adam was, and the only time she spent with them was sexual in nature. They were not branded, as all of her servants were, and as Adam was." Raon's face twisted at that statement. "None of them had any kind of personal connection to her prior to being brought into her domain," he said. "That's another difference. Adam was the son of a man she hated. I've seen her at other times while she had Adam, talking to herself, talking at others of her servants . . . She talked a lot about the king." He took a deep breath and let it out explosively. "And just this morning I ran across a reference to a prophecy. Apparently, she wanted to be the mother of Randor's first son because she found some prophecy regarding Randor and his son. It was odd, because it clearly all happened before he became king." Raon shook his head. "I don't know, I'll have to start looking at some early stuff later. The real point is that she was specifically, deliberately focused on Adam. I mean, she paid a million gold crowns for him, after all. That's a hefty sum."

"She did what?" Esbie exclaimed, leaping to his feet.

"What do you mean, she paid for him?" demanded Elira. Derward looked speechless and Romily practically squeezed Teela's hand into a pulp. Teela was hard pressed to keep from bursting into tears. Whatever anyone said, it was her failure that had gotten Adam caught in the first place.

Raon looked nonplussed. "Oh, well, he was captured by Skeletor to start with," he said. "Teela?" His eyes widened when he saw her expression and he turned to the others. "Skeletor sent his minions to capture him and then he sold him at auction."

"At auction?" Derward spluttered. "At auction? He sold the crown prince of Eternia at auction?"

"Yes, he did," Raon said. "There were quite a number of bidders, including Grenalo, but Daviona won. She was clearly after Adam specifically, possibly related to this prophecy she was obsessed with."

Esbie was the first to break the appalled silence that had gripped them after that mind-boggling announcement. He sat back down. "So she had a personal goal. Do we know what the prophecy foretold?"

Raon shook his head. "She didn't specify while I was listening this morning, and I had to come here before I could look further."

"It was undoubtedly nonsense," Elira said. "I mean, a prophecy?"

Esbie gave her a wry look. "Regardless of whether the prophecy was accurate, knowing what it predicted would give us insight into what she wanted out of having Randor's son, and possibly what she wanted out of Adam."

"I'm not sure how important the prophecy really was to her," Raon said. "In her interactions with Adam she never mentioned it." He shook his head. "At first it was clear that she was torturing Adam to punish Randor, but then her behavior changed."

"So what caused the change?" Derward asked.

"Power," Teela said. "Magical power. Orko says it's addictive, and Adam provides a lot of it.

"I beg your pardon?" Elira asked. "How so?"

"I don't understand," Esbie said at the same time.

Derward just raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth, but then he shook his head and closed it again, evidently satisfied with his colleagues' responses.

"He's a well," Teela said, sighing. "That means . . . um . . ." She was trying to put the explanation she'd been given into words when Romily took the matter out of her hands.

"It means he's possessed of the natural ability to channel enormous amounts of magical energy," the other girl said, her eyes wide. "Our prince is a well? Is he bonded? Who to? How long have you known this? I knew he was a person of goodness and compassion, but I never knew he was a champion!" They all stared at the girl in utter astonishment, but Romily wasn't done. "But how could she have taken power from him? Surely he's bonded! I thought all wells were bonded!" No one spoke, and Teela knew she was not alone in feeling overwhelmed by this burst of information and questions. "What?" Romily said when they all just looked at her silently.

"What are you talking about?" Nalineph said finally.

"Wells," she said as if that should explain everything. When he still looked blank, she asked, "Have you never heard of a well?" Nalineph shook his head. "I've read about them. They're usually bonded to a sorcerer who uses them to channel energy. If they're not, the power they channel can be dreadfully misused."

"And we have proof of this," Raon said. "We only found out that Adam was a well as a result of the wretched ordeal he went through."

"Then I'm surprised that Daviona hasn't bonded him to her, but she can't have done, or she'd be able to drain him no matter where he went."

Teela blinked. "Romily, what's this 'bonding' thing you're talking about?"

"It's a magical ritual that sort of locks up the power a well contains so that only one person can draw on it. There are all sorts of famous pairings. Luruvan and Megrana are one of the most famous," she said.

"That's an opera," Elira protested.

"But it's based on historical events," Romily said. "My father took me to see it when a company played it in Tronak. I was fourteen. It's a very romantic story."

"But I saw that and it doesn't say anything about either of them being a well," Elira said.

"I know," Romily agreed. "But I went looking for books afterwards and I found several that talked about their relationship in less symbolic terms." She dimpled. "All that in the opera about how he drew on her love and it made him stronger, it was because she was a well, and they were bonded. And that final battle, where they die, it isn't because she has a broken heart. They both expended every last bit of strength they had defeating the Snakemen." She glanced around at their thunderstruck expressions. "This was well before King Hsss. Anyway, even though in the opera they were both on the battlefield, she was really on the other side of the country, and she just dropped dead at the moment he did his final strike. It was, of course, blamed on a broken heart by most people, but it was really because his strike drained them both completely."

"So he killed her?" Teela asked, feeling appalled.

"Actually, it was mutual, or so the story I read said. They were in love, and they had a telepathic bond. She told her sister, who was with her, that the only way the battle could be won was for them to sacrifice themselves. So they did."

Teela stared at her, an idea developing. "But this bonding prevents anyone but the bonded sorcerer from gaining access to the power?"

Romily nodded. "By any and all means. Once I'd read about Luruvan and Megrana, I went looking for books about wells. A bonded well is protected even if the one he's bonded to dies, assuming he survives them."

Teela looked down at her hands, barely hearing Derward's question. "Where did you learn all of this?"

"Oh, there's a good library in Arven, and they sometimes borrow books from the library in Tronak," Romily said. "Sanviro and I go . . . we always . . ." Her words dissolved into tears.

Teela turned and put her arms around her. "Don't worry, Romily, we'll find him. And we'll cut out her liver."

"Promise?" Romily said, sniffling.

"Promise."

They returned to the subject of Daviona again, and the others asked Raon a lot of questions. Teela listened with one ear, but she had plans running through her head. At lunch, she slipped away from the group and went to the hangar. Leaving a note with the watch officer there, she took a sky sled and headed towards Grayskull.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

Duncan was gathering up a pile of papers that required the king's signature to put in a file for his next trip to Grayskull when he got a sudden mental call. _"Man-at-Arms?" _

He looked out the window towards the castle automatically and replied, _"Yes, Sorceress?"_

"_Teela is here, with a –"_

"_Why? Is something wrong?"_ he demanded, starting to his feet.

"_No, not wrong. Just startling. Teela has found a possible solution to the problem of protecting Adam. It was one I had considered and discarded, but she has a different angle on it that I had not considered. I think you should come, for this concerns you."_

Duncan picked up the file automatically and walked out of the office. "I'm going to Grayskull, Jenkins. I'll be back later this evening."

"Very good, sir," the secretary said.

The watch officer in the hangar gave him a note from Teela when he entered. He grimaced and took another sky sled. Why hadn't she come to him first? What was this solution, and how, if the Sorceress had already discarded it, had Teela found a way to make it seem more possible?

These questions and others filling his head, he made the trip to Grayskull. The drawbridge came down for him instantly and he ran across, barely acknowledging the greetings of the garrison commander in his concern.

Teela and the Sorceress were waiting for him in the throne room of the castle. "What is this?" he asked. "What's the solution?"

"The simplest way to protect a well is to bond him to a sorcerer," the Sorceress said, raising a hand to silence Teela. "This has the effect of limiting access to the power a well channels to that sorcerer."

Duncan stared. "Then why . . ."

"Why haven't I already mentioned it?" she fnished for him when his words trailed off. "Because I didn't even consider Teela in the equation. The binding spell is permanent, unbreakable, and it enforces a certain level of intimacy. The only possibility I saw was myself. I would clearly not be an appropriate person to be bound that way to Adam, and he would not be comfortable with such a solution."

Duncan nodded slowly, then realized what that meant. His eyes turned to Teela. "It's the only way," she said earnestly. "If he agrees, and I'm sure he will. It will protect him, and we're already close."

"But Teela, that's not . . . that's very drastic," he said, gazing into her eyes.

"I know it's drastic, but if it will protect him, I think we have to do it."

"What do you mean it enforces intimacy?" Duncan asked, turning back to the Sorceress.

"Some of the spells that have been used in the past were as binding legally as a marriage ceremony in the cultures they originated in. It does not have to be a cross gender bond, but when it is, neither one of the pair ever marries anyone else."

"I see." Duncan turned to Teela. "Are you sure you want to do something that –"

"Why are you even asking?" his daughter demanded, her eyes flashing. "I'd do anything for Adam, anything."

"If this is out of guilt, dearheart, it's –"

She bit her lip and a certain brightness came into her eyes. "Even if I didn't have anything to do with how he got caught, I'd still want to do this," she said firmly. "He's my friend."

"And you think you're in love with him," Duncan said.

Teela went a startling shade of red, and the Sorceress raised her eyebrows. "Is that true?" she asked.

"I don't think it, I know it," Teela said, raising her chin stubbornly. Duncan wondered if the Sorceress recognized the gesture. "I love him, and what's wrong with that?"

"Has he said anything to you that leads you to believe he returns those feelings?" the Sorceress asked.

"No," Teela said. "But I haven't said anything to him about it. He's not ready for that right now. I was going to wait, but –"

Duncan put a hand on her shoulder. "Dearheart, entering a relationship with that level of intimacy when you already are in love puts tremendous pressure on Adam. If he –"

She glared at him. "I wasn't planning on telling him," she said. "He doesn't need that kind of pressure, I agree."

"It might be very difficult for you, Teela," said the Sorceress. "To feel that way if he does not feel the same. You must consider that."

Duncan squeezed her hand while Teela looked thoughtful. "It doesn't matter," she said finally. "I can handle whatever comes."

"I think you need to take more time to think about it, child," the Sorceress said.

"I'm not a child!" Teela exclaimed. "And what other choice is there? Haven't you been searching for alternatives? Have you found any?"

The Sorceress pressed her lips together and shook her head. "Nothing."

Duncan gazed up at her for a moment. "Do you honestly think there's any real prospect of finding one?" he asked.

"No," she said after brief consideration. "I have looked, as I said, but –"

"And we don't have time!" Teela declared. "If we can find this spell, so can other people. Romily was surprised that Daviona hadn't bound him to her." Teela's expression was resolute. "What if Evil-Lyn got hold of him?"

Duncan felt his heart chill at the thought of that witch gaining access to the power of Grayskull. And Skeletor already had plans to make Adam his mate . . . if he found this spell, it would be disastrous. But he shook his head, looking down into the determined face of his daughter. "It's such a big step, dearheart. Are you –"

"If it's not me, it will have to be someone," Teela said urgently, crossing her arms anxiously. Her green eyes were focused on his. "The Sorceress has already declined, Orko –" Teela paused uncertainly. "He's an alien, and . . ."

"I'm not sure it would even work with Orko," the Sorceress said.

Teela nodded, looking as if she felt she was on surer ground. "We could go out and find some random sorceress who doesn't even know Adam, I suppose. That would be great for him right now."

"_She's right, Duncan,"_ the Sorceress said in his mind, not meeting his eyes. _"He will have to be bound to someone, and it would be better by far for him if it was to someone he already knows and is comfortable with."_

Biting his lip, Duncan nodded. "We need to talk to Randor and Marlena," he said.

"And Adam," Teela asserted. "He needs to have a say in this decision if anyone does."

The Sorceress smiled down on the girl. "Yes, Teela, and Adam. I have alerted them that we are coming."

* * *

Adam caught himself fingering his chin yet again and put his hand down quickly, hoping no one had seen him. Amid helpful advice and not so helpful jests from his father and Mekanek, he had done a reasonably decent job of shaving himself yesterday. There were only a few nicks and cuts, particularly around the hinge of his jaw, just beneath his ear. But, despite the fact that he knew the hair hadn't grown much overnight, he kept catching himself checking for new growth. He didn't want his father or Dorgan to notice and start ribbing him again.

He was sitting at the table across from his father, and they were both working. Adam was studying a treatise on economics, very dry and boring, when his father looked up, seeming startled. "The Sorceress says she's coming with Teela and Duncan," he said, sounding perplexed. "She didn't say why, though."

Adam closed his economics text, relieved at least that he wouldn't have to keep trying to plow his way through it.

"What did she say?" he asked.

The king shook his head. "Just that there is something we all need to talk about," his father said. Adam wondered what it could be, and he could tell his father was a little worried. "I'd better fetch your mother."

Adam nodded. His mother had gone to take a nap. He stretched the kinks out of his neck and walked over to the door, only realizing at that moment that he had never opened it himself. Either his father or Duncan, or one of the visitors who'd actually sparred with him had always opened it. And he'd never gone through it alone. In fact, this was the first time since his suicide attempt that he'd been completely alone for even a minute. Dorgan was in his room, reading, Adam thought, and his parents were in their bedroom. The door wasn't shut, but Adam wasn't in anyone's line of sight for the first time in days. His heart started pounding a little, and he felt unaccountably nervous. Here he was, in the heart of Grayskull, his parents not more than thirty feet away, the Sorceress on her way here with Duncan, and he was scared of being alone for two minutes.

Telling himself not to be a ninny, he stood up straight. Tentatively, he reached out and put his hand on the doorknob, turning it and opening the door. The hallway outside was dark and empty, and his gut was making little queasy rolls. He told it sternly to behave. No one would be happy if he stepped outside on his own, but he could say he was just going to meet their guests. Nothing wrong in that.

Abruptly, light flared in the hallway, illuminating the space and filling him with a sense of warmth and well-being. It was probably just the comparison with the previous gloom, but the light seemed brighter and more cheerful than he was used to in Grayskull's passages. He took one hesitant step outside the room and looked around. Now he was really alone, with a whole room in between himself and his parents. He just stood in the hallway, feeling somehow enveloped in affectionate regard. The Sorceress must have her eye on him.

"Adam!" He looked back over his shoulder at his father who had emerged from the bedroom. "What are you doing?" His voice was sharp and his eyes were wide with alarm.

"Being alone," the prince said. He was half-afraid his father would think he was being weird, but he didn't seem to. His face lost the worried expression, and he walked over to put his arm around Adam's shoulders.

"Did it feel good?" he asked.

"Kind of," Adam said honestly. "It was a little scary, too, though."

They both heard footsteps at that moment and fell silent, waiting. Duncan and Teela walked up, followed closely by the Sorceress who was, as she so often did, floating.

"Good afternoon," his father said. "Please, come in. Marlena will be out in a moment." Adam smiled at them as they all walked into the sitting room. He went to get the stool the Sorceress used when she came to visit. By the time everyone was situated, his mother had come out and Adam waited for the women to sit down, then lowered himself into a chair. Teela had been staring at him since she'd arrived, and he couldn't help wondering if he looked a mess with all the nicks and cuts. He hadn't thought they were _that_ noticeable.

Once everyone was seated, the Sorceress spoke. "We have found a way to protect Adam. It is a powerful, unbreakable protection, but it comes at a price." Teela shot her a startled, angry glance, and Adam wondered why.

"What price?" his parents asked in near unison.

"I'm not sure I'd call it a price," Duncan said, looking uncomfortable and reaching out to take Teela's hand.

"It is a price to both of them," the Sorceress said, raising her eyebrows.

"Both of whom?" Adam asked, bewildered. "What are we talking about?"

"Allow me to explain," the Sorceress said, giving a warning look to Man-at-Arms. Adam gave her his attention. "I have searched for a way to protect Adam, and there appears to be only one possible choice. There is a ritual that will bar access to the power he is capable of gathering and channeling, but it requires that the power be bound to a single individual, a single sorcerer or sorceress. From that time forward, that person will be the only one who is able to draw on Adam's power."

Adam stared, blinking. _A binding ritual?_ he thought, his breath catching in his throat. His heart started pounding, and he felt the edges of panic creeping up on him. The Sorceress wanted to _bind_ him? His hands began to tremble.

"Bound?" his mother demanded. "What do you mean?"

"Precisely what does this ritual consist of?" his father asked.

They weren't yelling, or getting angry. He looked at them in shock. They were considering this, and Duncan obviously thought it was okay. Instead of reassuring him, this just increased his panic. He was frozen in his seat, staring, unable to believe what he was hearing and seeing.

"Shut up!" Teela yelled, abruptly thrusting herself across the gap between them. She was kneeling in front of him. "You're scaring him!" She took his hands and looked into his eyes. "Adam, it's okay. They mean me. It's really not a bad thing."

"But . . . binding . . ." He was caught by the intense green of her eyes. "It – I –"

"It's me, Adam, you know you can trust me," she said, and he nodded. "This spell, what it will do is make it so that only one sorcerer can ever access the power you hold, and that sorcerer would be me."

He could feel his fear ebbing, but he shook his head in bewilderment. "You're not a sorceress," he said.

She looked disgusted. "Yeah, well, that's what I thought, too, but apparently I am."

Adam blinked. "You are?"

She nodded. "I blew something up," she said, sounding dismayed.

He raised his eyebrows. "You did what? On purpose?"

"No," she said. "I got angry and . . . and a table exploded."

"You exploded a table because you were angry?" Adam exclaimed. "But you get angry at me all the time."

"Not that kind of angry," Teela said. "It was when we didn't get to Jeclarren and Sanviro in time."

Adam nodded, understanding. "Oh, wow. But still, that's pretty scary."

"The Sorceress has blocked my powers somehow," she said, nodding. "I have to study things like meditation for awhile and then I'm going to have to learn how to use them so I can _not_ use them on accident." She groaned. "I didn't even like studying magical theory."

Adam shrugged. "I thought it was interesting," he said.

Teela shook her head. "That's not the point. What we came here to talk about is how to protect you."

"So how does this work?" Adam asked. He was suddenly aware of four pairs of adult eyes on them. "I think my parents want to know, too," he said.

Teela glanced around, flushing slightly. "Um . . . well, there's a spell. And it makes it so no one –" She looked thoughtful for a moment, then her eyes lit. "You know how my dad's working on creating blasters that are keyed to a specific person?" Adam nodded. "So that no one can use it but the person it's keyed to?" Adam nodded again. "Well, I'd be the person and you'd be the blaster."

He heard a choking noise from the general direction of Man-at-Arms.

Adam blinked. "So, no one could fire me but you?" he said.

"Exactly. Not even if I died or anything. It would be permanent."

"Okay," he said slowly. "So what's the catch?" He knew the Sorceress, and if she said there was a price, there had to be something bad.

Unexpectedly, Teela flushed a cherry red. "Well, most soldiers don't marry their blasters."

"Marry?" he repeated. "Wait, are you saying I'd have to _marry_ you? Why?"

"It's the spell," Teela said. "It creates a psychic link between the sorceress and the well, and that makes it impossible for either of them to have . . . well, it's even more binding than marriage."

"Oh," Adam said, his mind boggling. "And you want to have this pyschic link with me?" he asked.

"Well, there aren't a lot of options," Teela said, sounding upset, and Adam flushed. She didn't have to make it so obvious that she didn't – "Would you rather it was the Sorceress? Or Orko? Or some stranger? At least you know me and –"

He blinked again, startled. "Teela, I wasn't objecting to you," he said. "I thought you'd object to me."

"Oh," she said. She squeezed his hands and looked into his eyes. "I don't." He didn't know what to think or what this meant. He also didn't seem to be able to pull his eyes away from Teela's. "On the up side, you wouldn't have to worry about all those court girls chasing you anymore."

Adam chuckled weakly. "Are you proposing?" he asked then. "Because you know, I don't want – I never want –"

She shook her head. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," she said. "And if it's never, I can live with that."

"It isn't fair to expect you to –"

"You aren't expecting anything," Teela said. "I'm offering, and I'm serious." He shook his head uneasily. "Adam," she said, reaching up and touching his cheek very lightly. He froze and looked into her face again. Taking her hand away, she said, "You'd do it in a heartbeat if it was me that needed protecting, I know you would."

"Of course I would," he said. "But –"

"So don't be surprised that I'd do the same for you."

"I'm not," he said. "I just never . . . I mean . . ." He shook his head and looked up to see both his parents sitting as if stunned.

"Duncan?" his father said in confused query.

"The Sorceress assures me that it will protect Adam and –"

And if it's not me it will have to be someone else!" Teela declared earnestly, gazing at his parents. Adam looked down at her hand in his and squeezed it. She turned her eyes to him and smiled.

"I can't ask you to sacrifice yourself this way," he said softly to her.

Her eyes grew fierce. "It's not a sacrifice!" she said. "Don't say things like that." Her hand was tight on his. "And you're not asking."

"Be reasonable," Adam said. "Even if we were in love, this would be an incredibly profound change for both of us. A psychic link is . . ."

"I know, Adam," she said. "Who better? I tried telepathy once, and we all know how that turned out." She flushed and turned. "Not that I'm not grateful," she said hastily to the Sorceress, for it had been a life-saving transfusion of her blood into Teela's body that had temporarily given the girl telepathic powers.

The mention of that incident brought a new concern into Adam's mind, however, and he glanced at the Sorceress. She was gazing warmly at Teela. "I understand, Teela," she said gently. Then she turned to Adam and his parents. "This is truly our best option. We must bind his power to someone, or risk that one of our enemies will. Our choices are a total stranger, myself, or Teela."

They were all silent for a moment, and Adam looked down into the face of the girl who had always been his best friend. They'd had moments of strife, many of them, but he'd always known he could count on her if he needed her. He knew she didn't feel that way about him, how could she, with his constant disappearances? Still in this moment of need . . . he bit his lip.

"You're certain this will protect him?" his mother asked in a faltering voice.

"In the sense that no one else would be able to use his power. Daviona would never be able to drain him again, he wouldn't even require shields."

"Won't that make Teela a target?" his father asked.

Adam looked sharply down at her, opening his mouth to protest, but she squeezed his hand and said, "It doesn't matter!"

"It does matter," Randor said. "If only so that we keep aware of the fact, and protect you accordingly."

Adam gulped. "Teela, you need to think about all the ramifications of this," he said. "I mean, you always talk about how you wouldn't want to be a princess or a queen, and how rotten my mom's job really is. You're essentially volunteering for it, aren't you? I mean, doesn't all of this mean we'd have to get married?"

Teela nodded. "Yes, we'd have to get married, and no, I don't want to be a princess, but I'll do whatever it takes to make you safe."

Adam shook his head. "You should marry someone you love," he said.

"Don't be stupid," she replied.

"It's not stupid," he protested. "You might fall in love with someone one of these days, and this would –"

"I'm not going to fall in love with someone!" Teela declared. "And lots of people have arranged marriages. I want to do this for you, Adam, I want to do this for all of us. It's not just you we're protecting. If someone else got hold of that power, what they could do with it . . ." She shuddered. "I hate to think of it."

Adam thought for a moment, then he stood up, pulling Teela to her feet. He walked over to Duncan, pulling Teela with him by the hand. "Man-at-Arms?" he said formally. Duncan raised an eyebrow. "I would like ask for permission to pay court to your daughter."

Teela made an odd, strangled sound, and he squeezed her hand to silence her. Duncan blinked a couple of times and then said, "I'm not ready for this."

Unprepared for this departure from his script, Adam stared at him. His father cleared his throat and said, "No one ever is." Adam turned and looked at his parents over his shoulder. His mother's eyes were brimming with tears and his father looked very sober. Seeing Adam looking at him, he smiled. "I'm not ready, either."

Teela gave a nervous laugh and said, "Father, you haven't answered Adam's question, though I'm at something of a loss to know why he asked it."

Adam shrugged. "I just thought . . . I thought we should do it right, if we're going to." He looked at her, and smiled shyly. "I don't know how much of a husband I'll be able to be, but I want to do whatever I can. And even with arranged marriages, courting is part of it." Teela's lip trembled and Adam, not knowing what else to do, gave her a hug. "Is that wrong?" he asked.

"No," she said, "it's fine." Her arms went around his neck and she hugged him tightly. Her hair was in his face, and he noticed that she smelled nice. A lot nicer than Davi.

He pushed her away suddenly. _How could I – I can't –_ Teela was staring at him, shocked, and he shook his head. "We shouldn't do this!" he said, his voice shaking. "We can't do this – you deserve better!" He turned away and blundered out of the room, into the bedchamber.


	44. Chapter 44

_Author's Note: I was rereading this story on the site and I discovered that about half of Chapter 6 was missing, but not obviously so. I have restored Chapter 6 to its full length, so if you feel the inspiration to do so, you might want to go back and reread it._

* * *

**Chapter 44**

Randor leapt to his feet to go after him, hearing Teela exclaim, "What did I do? I didn't mean to –"

"It wasn't you, dearheart," Duncan said.

"No, Teela –" Marlena's words cut off as he shut the door behind him. Adam was on the bed, his shoulders shaking. Randor sat down behind him, putting his hand on his back.

"What is it, son?"

Adam just shook his head, but he rolled over to curl up against his father's side. Randor held him, rocking gently, letting him cry. After a few minutes, Randor gently repeated his question, and Adam sniffed.

"I'm not good enough for Teela," he said. "Davi ruined me for anything decent!"

Randor stroked Adam's hair tenderly. "No, she didn't," he said. "You're not ruined." He maintained a calm, reassuring voice, though internally he was quaking. This kind of talk could too easily lead to dark depression.

"I am!" Adam protested. "I'm horrible and vile. Davi did things to me, the way my mind works and how I react to things. I'm past redemption!"

"No, you're not," Randor said. "Adam, what happened? Just now, I mean. Why are you saying this?"

"It doesn't matter. It's just more proof that what Davi did to me will never go away. I'm not fit to be around decent people, certainly not a girl like Teela. She deserves someone who hasn't been contaminated by that filth."

Randor considered his son for a moment, then said, "Sanviro and Jeclarren are undoubtedly going through much the same as you did." He swallowed, hoping he was taking the right tack with this. "Do you think Sanviro should give up Romily because he's been contaminated?"

"It's different," Adam said.

"How so?"

"He has . . . he has memories of her, of thinking about her, that aren't tainted by association with Davi."

Randor bit his lip, baffled. "You have memories of Teela that aren't –"

"No!" Adam shook his head. "Not the kind of memories you mean. Sure, I can remember playing with Teela, and fighting with her, but I hold her in my arms and . . ." He shuddered. "I can't help thinking things that aren't right."

"Adam, that's not something wrong with you," Randor said. "Or, not the way you're taking it. Of course you think of Daviona, probably a lot of paths in your mind are going to lead you to her for awhile, but it would be like that with any trauma as encompassing as this one is."

"But Teela deserves someone who isn't going to be constantly having these kinds of horrible thoughts." Adam gulped, tears still running down his face. "She deserves someone who doesn't have these kinds of attacks, someone who can be a proper husband to her."

Randor considered his words carefully, trying to find the right thing to say. Adam's anxieties were understandable after what had happened to him, and if there wasn't a pressing reason to go forward with this plan, Randor wouldn't be discussing this with him now. There was no reason for Adam, at his age, to be worried about being a 'proper husband.' The king blinked. _At his age . . ._ "Adam, you don't have to worry about being a 'proper husband' for a few years yet, even if you marry now." His son's eyes met his, an expression of baffled confusion in them. "You're too young, both of you, to think of that yet."

"Father, I'm never going to have sex again," Adam said. "I can't." He lowered his head to his hands. "I can't."

"I know you think that now, Adam, but that will change."

"How?" Adam asked hopelessly. "How could it?"

Randor put his hand on Adam's chin and raised his face. "Adam, did you know that many women who have been raped feel the same way you do right now?" The boy nodded uncertainly. "The healers have ways of helping them to get past it, and they can help you. You will be able to get past this feeling. I know it probably doesn't seem possible now, but the time will come."

Adam took a deep, shuddering breath. He nodded, and Randor was glad to see that. "I guess anything's possible, but Teela deserves more than, 'the time will come.' I can't ask her to marry a man who isn't whole, and may never be." He looked down at his hands again. "Someone who thinks about horrors while he touches her."

"You won't always, Adam," Randor said, his heart bleeding. "And it doesn't say anything about you that you have these thoughts. It doesn't mean you're bad."

"But it's disrespectful to Teela," Adam said.

"In what way? How were you disrespectful to Teela?"

Adam shifted, not meeting his eyes. "I . . . I noticed how Teela smelled, and . . ." He bit his lip. "And I found myself thinking that she smelled nicer than Davi."

Randor waited a moment, and then realized that Adam had confessed his dark deed. He looked down at his own hands, trying to figure out how to respond, how to address such a minor transgression in the light of the fact that Adam clearly considered it to be earthshattering.

"Son, these experiences have happened, they are a part of your memory," he said. "That can't be changed. Things will happen that may trigger them, but that doesn't mean you're doing something wrong."

Adam shook his head. "I shouldn't think of Davi when I'm with Teela."

"All you were doing was comparing something you didn't like to something you do," Randor said. "That's normal. Did hugging Teela make you feel uncomfortable otherwise?"

The boy's eyes turned inward, and he considered the question. Then he shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"That's good, isn't it?"

Adam nodded. "But thinking about Davi makes me uncomfortable."

"Of course it does," Randor said. "That's normal, too. But you can't just decide to stop. It will happen less with time, and I know you never want to hear those words again, but it's the truth."

Adam sighed and nodded. "Time," he said, grimacing. "But it's not fair to Teela to tie her to someone who needs this much time to act like a normal human being again."

"What does fairness have to do with it?" Randor asked frankly. Adam looked up at him, startled. "Life is many things, but fair is not one of them."

"Well, we can try to be as fair to people as possible, can't we?" Adam asked. "Isn't that the point of being king? Trying to balance things so that everyone gets the best possible chance for success and happiness?"

Randor nodded. He felt like he was debating on the edge of a precipice, with his son poised on the brink. One wrong word, and Adam would fall in, and it might take months or even years to draw him out of despair. "So, what would be fair in this situation?"

Adam had an answer ready. "For Teela to marry someone she loves, who loves her, and who can be an equal partner in the marriage."

"That might be ideal, but we're not talking about ideal situations. We're talking about right here and right now, the situation we have. What would be fair? Telling Teela that we appreciate her offer, but that we're not interested, and then going out to find some sorceress out there who might be willing to tie herself to you? What's fair about that?"

"I – um –"

"Teela is your friend, and she loves you. You love her. That alone is a good start for a marriage. As for the specifics of the situation, she knows what your problems are, and she knows why you have them, and she clearly is willing to accept that. That doesn't mean she won't try to help you move past where you are now, but that's okay, too, isn't it?"

Adam nodded, but he still looked dubious.

"Do you object to her as a prospective wife?" he asked Adam seriously.

"No, I already said that. I mean, I never thought about it, but I . . . I don't."

Randor nodded. "If she didn't have full knowledge of what you'd been through and how it's affected you, that might be unreasonably unfair, but that's not the case."

Adam looked thoughtful for a moment. "She needs to know, ahead of time, what is going to be expected from her as princess, and what restrictions it's going to put on her."

"That seems reasonable."

Adam shook his head. "I can't help thinking she'll be miserable. You're not going to want to let her go out and fight with the masters, are you?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"I don't think that's a good option," Adam said. "I –"

"I think we can probably discuss this out there," Randor said, nodding toward the other room. Adam flushed. "Now, there's no reason to be embarrassed."

"That's easy for you to say." Adam stood up, though, and giving him a tight hug, he turned toward the other room. "Teela's going to be upset."

"She won't be angry," Randor said, hoping he was right.

Adam opened the door and walked out, and Randor followed him, marveling anew at just how courageous his son was. He didn't think he'd mention this to Adam, he had a feeling the boy wouldn't consider this courage, but to face embarrassment the way he did, head straight, no evasion, it took guts.

Dorgan was now in the sitting room as well, and it was clear from his expression that he'd been informed about what was going on. Adam walked at Randor's side, not moving very far away from him, across the room. Marlena shifted so that there would be room for Adam to sit beside his father, and they sat down. No one spoke for a long moment, then Adam said, "You never did answer my question, Duncan."

Man-at-Arms face lit with relief. "Yes, Adam, you have my permission," he said. "Though I rather think hers is more to the point."

Teela was barely holding herself in her chair. "So, you will?" she asked.

Adam looked over at her. "I will, and I'm sorry I spoiled your proposal."

She flushed charmingly, looking down at her knees. "So, if I proposed, why are you asking my father for permission to court me?" she asked.

Adam shrugged. "Don't I get to do anything?"

"Oh." The girl grinned. "Well, I suppose you can, if you want to," she said in an offhand tone.

When no one had made an issue of his earlier outburst, Adam's calm had seemed to return. Now he gave Teela an impish look and said, "Well, if you don't want presents and moonlight walks, that's fine, too."

She smiled shyly, and Marlena said, "When does it . . . I mean, what sort of preparations need to be made? When should it happen?"

That sobered both the children . . . Randor shook his head. _Children . . . and they still are in some ways . . ._ Rage suffused him, though he managed to keep his expression calm, rage at Daviona's callous use of his son, and the damage that she had inflicted.

"Well, I think we will want to do it before Adam leaves Grayskull. Now, do you intend to do a marriage ceremony at the same time?"

Marlena shook her head. "I don't think so, though I'm open to discussion." She glanced at Adam and Teela. "I thought perhaps a quiet ceremony upon Adam's return home, with only family and close friends in attendance. That way it won't look quite as secretive or odd. Adam's still not well, so he wouldn't be up to a large, public ceremony."

"That will give us a little time to prepare," Duncan said. "And the ritual?"

"I could do that in the morning," the Sorceress said. "I need to review it and make sure I have everything ready, but it doesn't require any lengthy preparations."

Adam shivered next to him, but he seemed otherwise calm, so Randor didn't say anything. He just squeezed Adam's shoulders.

"I think Teela should stay here tonight," the Sorceress went on. "I believe that there are things that both she and Adam should do to prepare for the ritual."

"Like what?" Teela asked.

"Spending time together, for one," the Sorceress said. She closed her eyes briefly. "I have moved another bed into the next room," she said, nodding towards the bedroom Randor and Marlena had been sharing with Adam.

The boy shifted, leaning closer against his side. Randor squeezed his shoulders. "I think it's getting close to time for dinner."

"And I must make certain that everything is ready for the spell." She rose, her face still quite somber. "I will return in the morning with instructions." Walking across to Adam, she placed a gentle hand on Adam's face. He smiled up at her. Randor wondered if she was speaking to him psionically. It was somewhat disturbing to reflect that he could be in the room with both of them, within touching distance, and yet not know for certain whether or not they were conversing. _Will it be like that for Adam and Teela?_ he wondered. Randor could think of many occasions, both as a king and as a father when it would have been handy for him to be able to speak with Marlena invisibly.

The Sorceress gazed into Adam's eyes for a moment or so, then walked over to Teela. "Thank you for coming to me with this, Teela. It was a very good thing."

Teela grew pink and looked away. Then the Sorceress bade them all good night and left the suite. There was a silence after she left, and then Marlena jumped up and embraced Teela. "I'm finally going to have a daughter!" she exclaimed. The girl looked startled, but she returned Marlena's hug. Then Marlena turned back to face them all. "Well, just because it's going to be a small wedding, doesn't mean it can't be wonderful," she said. Randor knew that look. Marlena was about to turn into a whirlwind to get this wedding planned as quickly as possible.

"Teela, do you have any colors you would prefer?" she asked.

"Colors?" the girl faltered. "For what?"

"For flowers and dresses," the queen said.

Teela shook her head. "I don't know. Can I . . . can I just leave it up to you?"

Marlena smiled, and Randor knew that she had what she wanted. Carte blanche to do as she liked.

"Of course, dear," the queen replied. "I'll take care of everything."

"I know I'm just a male, and of no consequence for these things," said Adam, "but can I make a request?"

"Naturally," his mother said.

"Not too frilly," Adam pleaded. "And nothing with lace. I don't want lace collars or cuffs."

"Adam!" his mother exclaimed. "I have good taste. You can trust me not to make you look silly." As would most teenaged boys in a similar situation, Adam looked highly dubious but didn't respond. "I will have to give it some thought."

Enticing odors wafted towards them from the table as food arrived. Adam stood up, walked over to Teela, and held out his hand to help her rise. For a second, the girl looked as if she would refuse. It would have been her normal, automatic response to anyone suggesting she needed help with something so minor. She paused, though, and took his hand, and they walked to the table together. Randor put his arm around Marlena's shoulders, squeezed her briefly, then went to sit at the end of the table so that Adam, with Teela beside him, sat on his right. Marlena sat down at his left with Duncan beside her. Dorgan sat down at the opposite end of the table.

Adam and Teela were both abnormally silent as the meal progressed, and the adults confined their conversation to the business Duncan had brought with him. Marlena kept getting odd, distant looks in her eyes, and Randor knew she had gowns and floral arrangements dancing behind them.

After dinner, Dorgan said, "Orko should be returning tomorrow in the afternoon to let us know how his refinements on the newest treatment are coming."

"Really?" Adam asked. "Does it look good?"

"It does," Dorgan replied, smiling. "You will still be sick afterwards, of course, but this one won't require needles if all goes as we think it will."

"That's terrific," Adam said enthusiastically. "I hope it works."

"Me too," said Teela.

"We should know tomorrow," Dorgan said. "Randor, a word with you?"

Randor nodded, and as he followed Dorgan into the infirmary room, he heard Adam say, "The Sorceress said we were supposed to spend time together. You want to help me with my calculus?"

Teela's response, however, was lost to the closing of the door. Randor looked at Dorgan expectantly.

"Sit down, boy," the healer said. "I want to get a look at you, and with Duncan, Teela and Marlena in that room, Adam's not going to do anything that can't be handled. I would have wrestled you in here before, but I didn't want to alarm Adam."

Randor stared at Dorgan in irritation. "I'm fine, really. I –"

"Then you haven't been looking in your mirror much. Your eyes are sunken, you've lost weight, and you are showing signs of the stress you've been under. I want a look at you to see if you need treatment for anything, since the stress can't be removed."

"Dorgan, I really don't need a healer poking and prodding me."

"You really don't have a choice, sire," Dorgan said. "Marlena will come in here and hold you in the chair if I ask her to, but let's not alarm Adam by making that necessary, all right?"

Randor gave in with what he knew was ill grace, and Dorgan examined him closely, tutting periodically. The king sighed and let the healer have his way.

* * *

Duncan was more than a little stunned, especially after Marlena's announcement that she was getting a daughter. It was a little startling to realize that he would be the father-in-law to the next king of Eternia and the grandfather to the one after that. He knew, however, that if there were another choice, the Sorceress would not be going this route. They were so young, it was too early for either of them to marry.

"So," Marlena said, sitting opposite them while they failed to work on Adam's calculus. They were discussing the research Teela was working on instead. "Has either of you got any idea who you'd like to stand witness for you?"

Teela's eyes widened and Duncan could see the wheels turning. Adam bit his lip and spoke almost immediately. "Does it have to be someone my own age?" he asked.

"No, of course not," Marlena said. "Your father had a man twice his age stand witness for him when we married. Duncan and Dekker."

Adam nodded, then looked over at Duncan. "You already have a job in the wedding," he said. "You can't be in two places at once."

"That's true," Duncan said, very touched that Adam had thought of him at all in that context. "But I appreciate the thought."

"Raon, then," Adam said. "Raon and Mekanek."

Teela smiled. "Delira and Romily," she said. "If either of them is willing."

Duncan smiled. _Delira . . ._ A dark haired, blue-eyed little girl who was always laughing, as he recalled. She'd played with Teela and Adam, and Raon and Phillip, too, many years ago. He hadn't know that Teela was still in touch with her.

"Delira, wasn't that Ardigan's little girl?" Marlena asked. "When Ardigan retired, I thought they moved to the forests in the north, where he was from."

Teela nodded. "They did, but Delira and I have written back and forth ever since. If it's too much trouble to go and fetch her, I'll understand, but –"

"It's not too much trouble. Write a letter and I'll see that it gets delivered tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Adam asked, sounding suddenly worried. "Are you going away?"

Marlena's eyes brightened with tears she wasn't shedding. She reached out and took Adam's hand. "In the afternoon. I need to get things moving for the wedding, but I'll be back either tomorrow night or in the morning."

"Oh, I see," Adam said, his expression clearing. Then he grimaced, clenching his fists. "I am such a pathetic ninny anymore. People come, I freak. People leave, I freak. People touch me, I –"

"It will pass," Teela said persuasively. "Try not to worry about it."

"It's hard not to." He closed his calculus text and pushed it away, resting his elbows on the table and thumping his forehead down against his fisted hands. Then he took a deep breath and Duncan watched him force himself to relax. "Sorry," he said, sounding sheepish. "I'll try not to be so sulky."

Duncan snorted, reflecting that if anyone had the right to feel sulky, it was Adam. He sat down at the end of the table. "You're fine, Adam," he said. "Please don't feel you have to wear a mask with us. We're your family, and we want you to be able to relax."

Adam shrugged. "I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable."

"Well, I want you to tell me if I'm doing something that makes you uncomfortable," Teela said firmly. "I don't want you suffering in silence because you're afraid you might upset me." Adam looked down at the table and didn't respond. His hands were resting on the table, and Teela reached out, taking one of them in hers. "I'm serious," she said. Adam gave her a sidelong look, but he still didn't say anything. "It would upset me much more to find out that you were hiding your discomfort from me."

Adam shifted in his chair, his shoulders very tense. "I've put everybody out so much already," he said. "Now I've stuck Teela here, too. I don't want–"

Teela squeezed the prince's hand. "I'd be miserable anywhere else," she said. Her eyes shone with such sincerity that it took Duncan's breath away, and he Marlena's eyes open a little wider as if with realization. She gave Duncan a mildly alarmed look, and he shrugged as unobtrusively as he could.

She gazed at Teela for a long moment, her eyes soft and warm, and then she gave herself a little shake. "You are not putting anyone out," she said firmly to Adam. "We're your family and we want to be here."

Adam shrugged.

Marlena smiled sadly at him and sighed, but after reaching across the table and squeezing his other hand, she changed the subject. "Well, in any case, I want you both to write letters to your choices for witnesses, and I'll see them delivered tomorrow."

Teela nodded and pulled some paper out of the stack by Adam's book. She moved off to the end of the table to write her letters. Adam, looking very subdued, pulled some blank paper towards him and started writing.

They were both still working on the letters, and Adam had several crumpled pages at his elbow when Randor, looking extremely disgruntled, emerged with Dorgan. Duncan imagined that the healer had taken this opportunity to give the king a thorough examination. And if Dorgan ran true to form, something of a tongue-lashing, as well.

The king's expression cleared, though, as he headed toward the group seated around the table. Duncan and Marlena had been having a low-voiced conversation about possible guests, aided occasionally by muttered comments from Adam and Teela.

"What are we working on?" he asked, joining them.

At that moment, Adam crumpled yet another attempt and tossed it down in front of him. "I just can't make this sound right!" he growled.

"What is it?" Randor asked.

"A letter to Raon, asking him to be my chief witness," Adam said. "But I want to scotch any objections he might have because I won't be there to argue with him."

Randor reached out and grabbed the most recent attempt, smoothing it out and reading it. Apart from an initial abortive gesture of protest, Adam dind't object, though he went very red in the face. Randor read silently, then folded the sheet over and handed it back to Adam. "Would you like some advice?" he asked.

"Please," Adam replied.

"Don't try to reassure him. Offering reassurance implies that it's needed. Tell him what you want and why you want it, what feelings prompted you to choose him. Then I'll read it and tell you what I think."

Adam knit his brows, gazed thoughtfully into the distance and then bent to the paper again. Dorgan walked up behind Marlena. "My queen, may I have a word with you?" he asked.

She looked up, then shook her head. "I'm busy," she replied.

Both Adam and Teela lifted their heads from their work to watch. Dorgan said, "You can be busy again later."

"Dorgan, I am not going to get sick. I am planning a wedding. Sheer force of will would keep me from getting sick."

"Let me give sheer force of will a little help."

"I'm fine, Dorgan," Marlena exclaimed, beginning to sound irritated. Duncan glanced at Randor who was looking mildly amused. He wasn't sure which side of the argument amused his friend more.

"But, Mother," Adam said, startling them all, "if you don't go see the healer when he asks you to, how are you ever going to persuade your son to?"

"That's not remotely the same thing," Marlena said, sounding astonished by her son's unexpected rebellion.

"How so?" Adam asked, tilting his head.

"It's – It's just –"

Adam leaned across the table and took her hand. "Mother, go with Dorgan. Now that he's asked for you, I'd worry if you didn't."

Marlena pursed her lips and glared at the healer, but she rose and said, "Very well, Adam."

When the door had shut, Randor let out a snort. "Well done, Adam," he said.

The boy looked at his father quizzically. "But I would be worried."

"I know that, but you expressed yourself in just the right way to persuade her to go."

Adam shrugged. "She doesn't look any better than you do. I think there are too many of us in that bed. Neither of you is getting enough sleep, and you haven't been since I –" He grimaced. "Probably since I disappeared."

Randor ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't think the number of people in the bed is causing trouble, Adam. There's plenty of space, after all." He was equivocating. Duncan raised an eyebrow very slightly, but Adam didn't seem to notice. He just shrugged and went back to his writing. As attuned as he was to Randor's body language, Duncan knew that he would have missed the little sigh of relief that followed Adam's lack of reaction if he hadn't been watching Randor closely.

Filing the fact away for later, he turned to Teela. "How are you coming with your letters?" he asked.

"Delira's is done," Teela said, patting a folded packet comprised of several sheets of paper. "I'm working on Romily's right now." She was already on her second sheet, Duncan saw. Adam's eyes widened.

"Am I supposed to write more? Should I be writing that much? I don't know how I'd fill that many sheets of –"

"No, Adam, you don't have to write that much," Randor said, breaking into Adam's nervous babble. "Just write what you feel, and you'll be fine."

Adam looked down at his paper and then started to crumple up this attempt, too. Randor rescued it and looked at it. "There's nothing wrong with this, son. Why are you throwing it away?"

"I just . . . I don't want to sound like a twit."

Randor looked down at the sheet in front of him and said, "You don't sound like a twit."

Adam snatched it away and thrust it at Duncan. "What do you think?"

Feeling rather as if he'd been handed a live bomb, Duncan looked down at the page.

_Dear Raon,_

_Teela and I are getting married very soon, and I'd like you to be my chief witness. We've been friends since we were kids, and I remember how you used to shield me from a lot of the unpleasantness some of the other older kids would have subjected me to. Now you're shielding me again, in a way, and I appreciate it more than I can say. I –_

. . . and the letter broke off there. Duncan nodded, relieved to be able to agree with his king. "This is a fine beginning. Go on with it. If you want to change things later, you can always write a second draft."

Adam grimaced and took the page back, bending to work again. Duncan glanced at Randor, half-expecting him to be irritated that his son couldn't just take his word for it. His friend just smiled at him, seeming somewhat thankful that they were in agreement.

Duncan handed across the file whose contents they had discussed at dinner, and Randor flipped through the documents, reading them and then signing. For awhile, the only sound was the scratching of pens, for Duncan had pulled some paper across the table and was writing down the names he and Marlena had discussed.

When Marlena and Dorgan emerged, she looked somewhat subdued, and he looked as calm and unruffled as ever. The queen walked back over and sat down in the chair she'd vacated. Adam looked up and said, "So, how are you?"

"My electrolytes are shot to hell," she said matter-of-factly. "I've been prescribed glop and lots of sunshine."

Adam shrugged. "Could be worse. Could be sunshine and lots of glop."

"Well, it's dark out and I've already had my glop for the evening. Duncan, are you making a list?" He nodded and they all bent to their tasks again. After another ten minutes, Adam wordlessly handed his letter to his father who read it, nodded and passed along to Duncan. He'd crossed out the "I" and gone on to a new paragraph.

_When you're around, I don't have to wear any masks, and I don't have to worry that I'll say something too shocking for my hearer. Those sorts of friends are rare in any case, and for a prince they're rarer still._

_You're probably wondering why this wedding is so sudden, but it's too long to go into here. If you have any questions, ask my mother._

_Please be my chief witness, Raon. It would mean a lot to me to have you standing by my side._

_Sincerely,_

_Adam_

"Very good," Duncan said. "Very good indeed."

Adam nodded. "Thanks," he said. He took back the page and started copying it neatly. That done, he turned to work on the letter to Mekanek and finished it very quickly. Noticing their curious expressions, he made a face and handed the letter to Randor who read it and passed it on.

_Dear Mekanek,_

_I'm marrying Teela very soon. If you want to know why the rush, ask Mom, though I guess I don't have to tell you that. I want you to be one of my witnesses. I think I would have had Phillip at my side if he had lived, and if anyone can take his place, it would be you._

_Love,_

_Adam_

Duncan nodded and handed the page back to his prince. He noticed an itch by his eye and rubbed it surreptitiously.

At that moment, Teela folded her second letter neatly into thirds and said, "That's Romily's done."

"What, did you write a novel?" Adam exclaimed. "You don't even know her that well."

"I just had a lot to say," Teela said calmly. She stood up and walked around to Adam's side, reaching down to take his hand. "Come on over by the window. We can talk."

The kids got up and sat down by the window, where there were two chairs facing each other. Duncan turned to Randor and Marlena. "I think I'll sleep on the sofa," he said.

"Jenkins will have an apoplexy," Randor said, grinning. "Are you going to let him know?"

Duncan nodded. "I'll have to go out to the garrison, but I'll be back shortly." He gave Randor an amused smile. "I _will_ send him back the documents."

"And a note telling him that the queen will need the better part of his afternoon tomorrow," Marlena said, suiting action to words as she scrawled a quick missive. "I'm also requisitioning several of the masters. They'll be in on the secret in any case, and I can use them to get messages to the appropriate parties."

"Secret?" Randor asked. "I thought you didn't want the wedding to be a secret."

"If it's to be a small wedding, it will have to be a secret right up until the moment it's happening," she said. "Can you imagine how the court would react to hearing that there's to be a small, private wedding ceremony for the prince? We'd have them at all the windows and trying to sneak in from every entrance. That's the last thing Adam needs. No, we'll keep it quiet until it happens. There will be sufficient witnesses, say about fifty, to testify to its occurrence, and that will be it."

"When do you plan to hold it?" Duncan asked.

"That will depend, in part, on Orko's news tomorrow when he comes. I will plan the wedding for a week from the day of his final treatment, which should be in the next day or so, I think."

"A week," Randor said, nodding. "That will give us a day or so here for Adam to recover from the treatment, then several days to get things together at home." He glanced over at his son. "Do you think it would look odd for me to stay with him in his room until the wedding?"

Duncan glanced over and then back to Randor. "Why?"

"I don't think it's a good idea for him to sleep alone," the king said.

"Well, tonight, Teela and I will share a bed," Marlena said. "We'll see for tomorrow night. I have a suspicion that they may need to spend time in close quarters."

"But they can't sleep together till they're married, not in the palace at any rate," Randor said.

"Sleep together?" Duncan exclaimed. "They're sixteen! Adam's – well, he won't –"

"Randor means sleep, Duncan, literally," Marlena said, making hushing gestures with her hands, glancing at their children as she did so. "And I'm not sure Adam can sleep alone for awhile. I'm not sure how he'll react to the notion of sleeping with a woman, though," she added thoughtfully.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Randor said. "When we see how they react to the ritual tomorrow, we'll know a lot more about what to expect."

Teela appeared at her father's elbow, standing at the corner of the table between him and Randor. "Adam has fallen asleep," she said. "I think he needs to go to bed."

Randor rose immediately, abandoning the conversation without a backward glance. "I'll turn in, too, then," he said as he reached his son's side, looking down at the boy with tenderness. He turned to look back over his shoulder. "Marlena?"

She smiled. "I'll make sure Duncan has sufficient blankets and Teela and I will be along in awhile."

The king nodded and lifted his son gently into his arms. "Dad?" Adam said in a weary voice.

"Bedtime for you, my boy."

Adam sighed and didn't speak again. Duncan watched them disappear into the bedroom and turned back to the queen. "I wonder how early the Sorceress will come in the morning," she said. "You know her better than I, is she an early riser?"

"I don't know her that well," Duncan said. "As far as I know, she never sleeps, since she always seems to be awake when I come to see her, no matter when."

"Perhaps she's just very good at faking it," Marlena said, her lips twitching. She turned and, catching Teela's hand, pulled her down to sit beside her. "Now, Teela, I haven't seen you in a gown in ages. Is there anything that particularly appeals to you in style?"

"Um . . . nothing frilly," Teela said. "No lace."

"I wasn't going to put you in lace, Teela," the queen said, smiling. "Neither you nor Adam."

"I don't want to look like a courtier," she protested.

Duncan bit his lip at the expression on Marlena's face. "You know, Teela," he said, "technically, I'm a courtier."

"Yes, but . . ."

"A tasteful courtier?" Marlena suggested. "One facet of being a princess is the need to dress the part. As queen I must consider my appearance before –"

"What you wear is lovely," Teela said. "But I would look silly in something like that."

Marlena nodded slowly. "I think something can be worked out, my dear. I promise you, you will not look silly."

Teela smiled. "I don't know why I'm worried," she said. "I know you wouldn't make me look awful. Maybe Adam's worries about lace are contagious."

"Perhaps I should have the tailor make him a very frilly shirt with lace positively dripping off it, just to alarm him," Marlena said.

Teela giggled, apparently caught by the notion. "Well, if you do that and show it to him first, it won't matter what else you give him, he'll be relieved."

Marlena laughed, too, and Duncan rose, not wanting to be privy to any more of the feminine conniving Adam was going to be subjected to for the next several decades. "I'll be back in a few moments. I'd better let Jenkins know that I won't be returning so he doesn't have a search party sent out looking for me."

Marlena waved him away. He went out and the Sorceress met him in the main hall. "Are you entirely comfortable with this?" she asked.

"No, frankly, I'm not. But I'm satisfied that it's the only alternative." He tilted his head. "I don't really understand, though. You let the others think you didn't realize about Teela's powers until recently, but you and I both know you've known about them all along. Why didn't you think of this sooner?"

She pursed her lips. "I am not entirely sure. Partly, I think, because it does not seem congruent with what I have seen of her destiny in my visions, partly because I did not wish to force such a permanent change to his life on Adam in his current state."

"What about her destiny?" Duncan asked hesitantly.

"That has seemed somewhat . . . clouded . . . of late," she said, unease creeping across her features. "I am no longer certain what shape it will take, but this . . . seems right. King Grayskull had a sorceress as his wife, it was she who became the first Sorceress of Grayskull. Perhaps things are coming full circle."

Duncan blinked. "I seem to recall that King Grayskull's life came to a sudden and unpleasant end," he said. "I'm not sure I like that circle."

"It may be that in Adam, the cycle will have the positive conclusion that was not possible in Grayskull's time," she said. "We cannot ever truly know the future, we merely glimpse snatches of possibilities."

Sighing, Duncan said, "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Not that I am aware of. You will be staying the night?"

"I planned to, yes," he said. "I know we've rather expanded the party of people staying at Grayskull past the parameters you laid out, but –"

"If I had any objections, you would have heard about them by now," she said simply. "Be at ease, Duncan. I wish to make certain there is enough bedding, and that is all."

He nodded. "Thank you," he said. "I need to go outside to get these sent off to the palace."

She smiled and drew back from him as the drawbridge lowered. "Good night, Man-at-Arms."

He carried out his errand quickly and returned to his suite to find that Marlena was waiting for him with a yawning Teela at her side. "I guess the Sorceress realized you would be staying, because bedding arrived for you about twenty minutes ago."

"We spoke briefly downstairs," he said. "Good night, my queen." He walked across to his daughter and gave her a tight hug. "Good night, Teela. I love you."

She squeezed back. "I love you, too."

They disappeared into the bedroom and Duncan pulled off his armor to lie down on the sofa. Covering himself up, he was asleep in mere moments.


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

Jeclarren paced uneasily. This was the first time she'd taken Sanviro when Jeclarren wasn't either doped up from his own 'turn' or aware that she was taking him next, and the time seemed to drag. Horrible images kept playing themselves in his mind, and he half-expected to be called to collect a semi-conscious Sanviro in the same way that Sanviro had been called to collect him.

He hoped desperately that she would be less hard on Sanviro than she had been on him. She had professed that she would not wear him out so terribly, but Jeclarren had very little faith in her self control. It was with relief and a bit of surprise, therefore, that he saw Sanviro returning at Daviona's side, unsupported and on his own two feet. He backed away from the door so she could open it to let him in, then guided Sanviro to the table where dinner awaited.

The boy stumbled a little, but seemed no worse off than usual. Once Daviona had gone, though, he pointed towards the paper on the other side of the room. Jeclarren got up, got several sheets and a pencil, and brought them back to him.

Sanviro had started eating, but he picked up the pencil and with a furtive glance at the door behind him, he began to write. When he was done he pushed the paper across the table to Jeclarren who looked down at it with some misgivings. It was a scrawl with meaningless patterns. Sanviro went back to eating, pushing the pencil across, too. The boy clearly expected him to respond in kind.

When he didn't move and didn't speak after several minutes had passed, Sanviro said, "Jeclarren?" tentatively.

"Elders take it!" he growled, standing up and walking to his bed, flopping down on his face. Speaking into the mattress, he said, "I can't read."

"What?" He heard Sanviro stand up and start to come over to him and he rolled over.

"I can't read," he said more clearly. "Go back and eat. There's no point in talking too much about it. The simple fact is I never learned how to read."

"Come and sit with me," Sanviro said. "I don't want to be alone."

Jeclarren got up and walked over, feeling vaguely ashamed of his overreaction, but he didn't like talking about it. It was embarrassing.

"How did you never learn to read?" Sanviro asked. "The king's schools . . ."

"Don't mean much when you don't have parents or anyone supporting you," Jeclarren said.

"What happened?"

Only the fact that Sanviro was his friend, and genuinely cared what had happened stopped Jeclarren from growling at the boy. He hadn't had many friends in his life, and he didn't have too many prospects of getting any more thanks to Daviona.

Sanviro was waiting politely and Jeclarren sighed. "My father died in the wars, and my mother died when I was five," he said. "Neither of them had any family that I know about, and Mother had . . . well, she wasn't very good at being on her own." Jeclarren had very few really clear memories of his mother. Dim images of a girl who was impossibly pretty and very young came to his mind. "There was a man she'd been living with, Duros, who took care of me for the next few years, but I didn't get much schooling." An itinerant carpenter couldn't stay in one place for very long, and Duros had taken him with him, despite the fact that they weren't related.

"What was your mother's name?"

"Anissa," Jeclarren said. "I don't remember her very well. Just that she was very gentle. She had blond hair and her eyes were a warm brown." Sighing, he took up the next part of the story. "So Duros and I moved around a lot, from city to city. During the Unrest, there was a terrible fire in Garoden, where we were staying. He went out to try and fight the fires with the other men, leaving me outside the city with his tools and everything we owned." Sanviro was staring at him in stunned silence. Jeclarren shrugged. "He never came back. I was nine."

"What did you do?"

"I went to all the wards, looking for him, but I couldn't find him anywhere. There were so many people killed, and we were new in town, so no one knew us at all. I'm sure he died. Someone said they saw someone who looked like him in the center of town and nearly everybody there was killed when the mayor's mansion collapsed." He sighed. "One of the constables I asked got a little too curious about me, though, and I think he wanted to send me to an orphanage, so when I was sure Duros was dead, I left Garoden and went to Eternos, figuring that no one would know me there."

"That's terrible," Sanviro said. "But how did you make your way?"

"I hitched lifts with farmers most of the way to the city, and . . ." Jeclarren shrugged. "I was tall and pretty big for nine. I convinced them I was twelve, and if you choose to leave school at twelve, they don't chase you down. A lot of records were destroyed all over the place during the Unrest, and there never were any on me that I know about anyway, so it wasn't that hard. I found a job and lodgings and made my way on my own. I told people the tools were my father's and that he'd been killed in he unrest. It was more or less true, after all."

"But why were you in Tronak, then?"

"I told you, I move around a bit. I'm an itinerant carpenter, like Duros was. I couldn't get a place in someone's shop, I have no credentials and my references are all for very rough work. In small towns, no one wants you to stay around because they've already got a carpenter and you take business away from him, and in bigger towns it's hard to get noticed."

"So you've never had a home?"

Jeclarren shrugged again. "I don't really know what that means," he said. "When Duros and I were together, we were home wherever we were. After that, I was on my own."

"Well, then, you will have a home from now on. You can come to Yalin with me."

Jeclarren rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you folks already have a carpenter," he said.

"We are growing," Sanviro said persuasively.

"Then you probably already have a second carpenter."

Sanviro reached over and put a hand on his arm. "You would be welcome."

Jeclarren leaned back in his chair. "Eat, the food's not getting any warmer." Sanviro went back to eating and Jeclarren watched. "You're a sweet kid, Sanviro," he said finally. "But you don't really know how the world works."

Sanviro looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"You honestly seem to think your family, your village would welcome me with open arms." He shook his head. "I've learned the hard way that it doesn't work like that."

"It can," Sanviro said. "Have you never been invited to stay?" Jeclarren didn't answer, and he didn't meet Sanviro's eyes. "It must be terrible to be so alone."

Jeclarren sat up sharply and let out a snort. "Not as bad as being with her," he said.

Sanviro nodded his agreement. "Well," he said, reaching out and taking the paper, "that's something we can do to while away the hours, though."

"What is?" Jeclarren asked in a puzzled voice.

"Teach you to read."

"What?" he exclaimed. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm too old to learn to read."

"No, you're not," Sanviro replied. "You can still –"

"People learn to read when they're kids. I don't even know the alphabet."

"Well, then, we have a place to start." Sanviro ripped off the part of the page he'd written on and started shredding it. "If we both work at it . . ." Sanviro's smile faded when he saw Jeclarren's expression. "It's something we can do that's productive," he said. "I've never spent more than a day on leisure at a time, most often not even that much. I think I'll go mad if I have to sit here reading or playing games another day."

In the face of that declaration, Jeclarren caved in. If it would make Sanviro feel more productive, more able to hold himself together, then he would do it.

Then Sanviro stuffed the shredded paper into his mouth and swallowed it with the last of his cider, making a face.

"What are you doing?" Jeclarren asked in astonishment.

Sanviro glanced at the door and then leaned very close to him. "You may not be able to read, but I'm sure _she_ can."

"What did you want to tell me?" he asked.

The boy raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, then got up and pulled a couple of books off the shelf. He flipped through until he found a picture and pointed at it. Jeclarren looked, bemused, and saw that it was a young man with a crown. After that he didn't need the pointing and gestures.

He reached out and stilled the hands. "Sanviro, I know. I've heard her talking, too."

"What are we –" Sanviro broke off, grimacing.

"What can we do?" Jeclarren asked. "I think it's time for bed." Sanviro nodded and closed the book. They climbed into bed, spooning for comfort and warmth.

* * *

Loud, harsh screams awakened Duncan suddenly in the dark of the night, coming from Adam's room. He snatched up a staff and ran into the room to find Randor holding Adam close while he screamed. Teela's eyes were wide, and Marlena was talking very quietly to her. Duncan froze in the doorway, uncertain what he could do to – or even if he should do anything.

Randor was murmuring to Adam, and he slowly managed to soothe him down, getting him to lie back down and sleep quietly again. He looked up at Duncan, the ghost of a sad smile on his face. "And now you see why I don't think he should sleep alone," he said. "One night, before Marlena was staying here, I left to go to the privy and he started screaming. I came back to find him huddled in the middle of the bed, shaking and sobbing." He shook his head.

Dorgan pushed past Duncan and went across to the bed, touching Adam's forehead and checking his pulse in his neck. "He still isn't waking?" the healer asked.

"No," Randor said. "I must confess, it seems odd."

"It may be an effect of the drugs," Dorgan said absent-mindedly, wrapping a cuff around Adam's arm to take his blood pressure. The boy slept on, oblivious.

"So when Orko does the final treatment, his sleeping will return to normal?" Marlena asked.

"I didn't say that," Dorgan replied. "I think this sleep abnormality is caused by the drug that inhibits movement. It may linger for awhile, even now that almost all of that drug is out of his system. It has caused the chemistry of his brain to alter somewhat, and it may take time to settle back into its proper patterns again."

There was a brief silence, and then Teela said in an over-calm voice, "I guess I'll be taking a lot of afternoon naps."

"Are you sure you're prepared to deal with this?" Marlena asked.

"I am," Teela said. "I knew there were health issues, and I'm prepared to deal with anything that comes up." She favored them all with very serious looks. "I know you think we're just kids, but I do understand what's needed." She gulped. "I may need help sometimes, but I won't be afraid to ask for it, either."

Marlena squeezed her shoulders. "Good girl," she said.

Duncan walked over and dropped a kiss on the top of his daughter's head. "Well, since I'm clearly not needed, I guess I'll go back to sleep."

"Duncan," Randor called softly before he could go out the door. He turned back. "Adam doesn't know he's doing this. With as guilty as he already feels, and as stressful as most things are for him right now, we don't want to add to it."

"Yes," Dorgan said. "And if he starts to be worried about sleeping, he may have more troubles rather than less. There's nothing we can do about it at the moment but get him soothed and sleeping again."

Duncan nodded, gripped Randor's shoulder briefly in acknowledgement and mute comfort, and went back to his sofa. _That adds a new element to the job of Adam's nighttime bodyguards,_ he thought ruefully. _They'll have to be people who can subdue him if he gets beyond Teela's strength. Poor Adam._

* * *

Jeclarren stood chopping carrots. He had finished making the day's breakfast and lunch and had begun dinner. Daviona had been muttering all morning. He had heard her the day before while he cooked, talking about the need for power and the need for sacrifice, but it hadn't been very clear what she meant.

Now some words rose above the babble that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. In tones of calm assurance, she said, "Before I can go further, I must sacrifice a man, someone who can provide me with power by his suffering." He froze. He had heard her talking of what she planned to do with them more than once in the past days, so he could easily believe that she would absently plan the murder of one of them within his hearing. His heart was beating hard in his chest. She had paused, but he did not dare turn to see what she was doing. "Yes, tomorrow, I think," she said, as if setting an appointment.

That would be Sanviro's day, he thought in shock and horror. Now he turned to gaze at her. She looked up at him, quite as if a chair had moved of its own accord, and raised an eyebrow. "Not Sanviro," he said, taking several steps towards her. "If you must kill someone, kill me."

She blinked in apparent perplexity. "What?"

"You said you were going to kill someone," he said, going down on one knee so he wasn't looming over her at the table. "Tomorrow. You can't kill Sanviro. If you have to kill someone, you should kill me."

Daviona's eyes widened. She smiled and reached out her hand to cup his cheek in it. He shivered with revulsion but didn't pull away. "How very unexpected," she said, her voice full of amusement. "I'm glad to see that the two of you are becoming so close. It's important that my servants be close to one another, because they spend so many years together. The bond between you two is developing very quickly."

"Why would you want to kill one of us, then?" he asked, knitting his brows.

"I don't, sweet thing. You misunderstood." She shifted her hand to his shoulder and gave him a small shake. "Now, you should make enough food for two days, but make tomorrow's lunch and dinner cold, so they'll keep in your room during the day. I'll be going out."

"Out?" he asked stupidly.

"Out. I have supplies I'm running short on." She stroked her hand up into his hair, ruffling it with her fingers. "And you will likely be very tired this evening. Very tired, because I will need a bit more power than usual from you to make my errands go smoothly." Her smile grew greedy, and he flinched away from her. "You are a bountiful source of energy, my pet."

He gulped and backed away, standing up again. His body was trembling. He'd just offered his life for Sanviro's, and that was something he would never have expected of himself. Today's dinner was almost done, and he started to put together a large plate of cold cuts with cheese and bread for the next day, very relieved that she wasn't planning on killing either of them. It struck him abruptly as he started to cut vegetables for the sandwiches that she _was _planning on killing someone, just not one of them.

Putting that thought firmly out of his mind, he focused on putting the food together for tomorrow. She'd already taken Sanviro's breakfast to him, and by the time he was done making all the food and putting things away, she'd taken his lunch, too. Jeclarren ate his own lunch while she was gone, then washed the dishes.

When he was done, she put her papers aside and said, "Come with me, sweet thing." He took a deep breath and followed her out.

* * *

Adam woke up and scratched Cringer's head. He wondered how the cat was going to take his master getting married. It was an odd thing to think about, being married. Cringer let out his great rumbling purr and Adam's father said, "I believe he's awake. Adam sat up and looked to see who he was talking to, but whoever it was stood out of sight in the next room.

Randor was sitting on the bed next to Adam, and he reached up and tousled his hair. "Good morning, son."

Adam ducked and said, "Good morning. Who's out there?"

"The Sorceress. She's already given her instructions to Teela, and she's gone with your mother into Dorgan's bathing chamber to do a ritual cleansing."

"Oh," Adam said.

"Can she come in here to give us our instructions?"

"Sure." Adam looked up as the regal woman entered. She was carrying a basket with a handle, which she held out to his father.

She looked down at Cringer. "Please wait out in the sitting room with Man-at-Arms and Dorgan, Cringer," she said.

The great cat stood up, rubbed Adam's shoulder, then jumped down from the bed and went out. She shut the door behind him and said, "Now then, you must prepare for the ritual. In that basket you will find soap and shampoo. Please use them and bathe very carefully, then put on the clothes in the basket. Try to clear your mind of worries."

Adam gave her an incredulous look.

"I know," she said, smiling. "Do your best. When you are done, come out into the sitting room and I will be with you very soon after to guide you to the ritual."

"Of course," Adam said. "What will I have to do?"

"Almost nothing. All the ritual really requires of you is your presence."

"My clean and unworried presence?" Adam asked, his lips twitching in an unbidden grin.

She smiled. "Preferably. Now, run along." She turned and left the room and Adam looked up at his father.

"Shall we go get me clean and unworried?" he asked.

His father grinned and put his arm around Adam's shoulders, guiding him towards the bathing chamber. "Have you got any worries in particular that you'd like to discuss?"

Adam shrugged, but once he'd climbed into the tub and started scrubbing himself he got to thinking. He was getting married. Not literally today, but in essence, and the marriage would be soon. Once a person was married, wasn't he an adult? Would that change things?

"Adam, you're very quiet," his father said. "Something on your mind?"

"What's going to happen when I'm married?" Adam asked.

His father raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? I take it you're not asking about the wedding."

Shaking his head, he said, "No, I mean afterwards. Are things going to be different?"

There was a pause as the king considered the question. "You're neither of you truly adult," he said after awhile.

"We're both of age," Adam protested.

"Yes, but if circumstances weren't forcing this on us, I wouldn't allow you to get married this young, and I know Duncan feels the same."

"But what does that mean? We will be married, right?"

His father nodded. "And you will have a suite together, and she will be the princess of Eternia, one day to be the queen. But you will not be living completely as man and wife."

"What about . . . will I have to stop . . . will we . . ." Adam didn't know how to ask his question because he wasn't entirely sure what his question was.

"Things between you and I won't change," his father said and Adam felt a rush of relief, Apparently that was what had been worrying him. "Don't worry, son, I'm not letting things go back to the way they were."

Feeling a great deal calmer, Adam finished bathing and dried off. His father pulled out the garments he was supposed to wear. They were simple trousers of unbleached silk and a matching tunic. Adam pulled them on and shrugged. "Well, I'm clean as a whistle, and as unworried as I'm likely to get."

His father gave him a quick hug, and then they walked out into the sitting room. The Sorceress was already there and she was alone. Wordlessly, she beckoned to them to follow her. They did and she led to them deep below the surface to an oval room of white granite shot through with pale pink quartz. It was illuminated by a massive outcropping of pink quartz in the middle of the ceiling. The floor had green sand on it that had been drizzled into lines. There was a large oval that mirrored the shape of the room and two small circles, one at each end of the oval. Teela was already there, sitting on the floor inside one of the circles with her legs crossed, clearly meditating. She was wearing a white tunic and pants much like his. Adam's mother, Dorgan and Duncan were standing outside the oval in a small cluster.

The Sorceress stopped them just inside the room. "Adam, I am going to take you in and place you in the second circle. You will simply need to stay there, either sitting or standing is fine, though I recommend sitting. Teela has some preparing to do, and then I will show her how to open up the channel between you two. It may be somewhat startling, but the important thing for you to remember is to stay inside the circle. There will be a lot of energies swirling inside the outer rim of the spell, and the circle is there to protect you from them."

Adam nodded, his mouth going dry. "What will happen when she opens up the channel?" Adam asked.

"I am not sure what it will feel like for you. Probably a rush of Teela's essence and emotions, and a sense of connectedness. It may be somewhat overwhelming, but she will be getting the same sense of you."

Nodding again, Adam gave his father a fleeting glance then followed the Sorceress. When they reached the oval, she made a cutting motion with her staff, as though creating a doorway. They walked through, and Adam felt a shimmer of energy as he stepped across the barrier. The circle had no such barrier, at least not yet. She guided him into the center and watched him sit down, also crossing his legs, to face Teela. She walked around him very slowly, three times, clockwise, and he felt a wall of magical power come up around him. He sat, trying to be calm and unworried, while she crossed the oval towards Teela.

She merely went to stand behind Teela, spreading her wings wide and resting her staff on the floor. This state of affairs continued for some time, until Adam's rear end started to go numb. Adam's parents, Cringer, Man-at-Arms and Dorgan all stood outside the oval, silently watching.

Then, quite suddenly, Teela rose to her feet. Behind her, the Sorceress spread her arms, and Teela mirrored her movements precisely. Liquid syllables spilled forth from Teela's lips and, in exact synchronization with the Sorceress, she raised her hands above her head and clasped them together. Energy of a brilliant blue-green collected in a ball of coruscating light. Glancing around, Adam half-saw, half-felt energy flowing around the oval space.

His heart rate increased as he watched, and he started taking long deep breaths and letting them out slowly, trying to keep from panicking, because it had just sunk in that Teela was a sorceress. _Don't be an idiot, she's your friend, too!_ He brought himself back under control just as Teela's hands lowered towards him. Slowly she slid them from a clasped position to a cupped position, so that she almost seemed to be holding the ever-shifting ball of energy in her outstretched hands.

She spoke, and her voice seemed to fill the room even though she wasn't shouting. "We shall be one." As her words ended, the power in her hands seemed to elongate, changing from a sphere to a long cylinder with one end still just above her hands and the other stretching towards him. He felt a slight shiver in the energy wall that surrounded him as it reached him, and he rose to his feet without thinking about it. "We are one," Teela said, and he felt a sudden inflow of external emotions and personality, at once very familiar and quite alien. For a few moments they seemed to commune, almost as if it were through the cylinder of green energy. Then the cylinder faded and with it the extreme sense of communion.

But as it went, words came out of his mouth that he had not thought of saying. "One we shall ever be."

With his words, the energies that danced and shimmered around them extinguished, and then then he felt the walls go down around them, first the one immediately about him, then the other. All the energy in his body went out of him at once and he fell to his knees. Across the room he saw Teela do the same. The room seemed to shift shape and form in his eyes and then he fell forward to the floor. He felt cold stone against his cheek and then nothing more.


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

"Is that supposed to happen?" Randor demanded, running to his son with Marlena at his heels.

"It did not say anything about it in the texts," the Sorceress said, rolling Teela onto her back and touching her forehead. She nodded once at Duncan who picked his daughter up in his arms. The Sorceress rose and came over to them. Randor had already turned Adam over onto his back.

"Does that mean this shouldn't happen? Are they hurt?"

"They are fine," the Sorceress said, after brief, assessing touch to Adam's forehead. "Just exhausted." She sighed, and Randor thought she sounded somewhat exasperated. "Books often leave that sort of information out, as if the writers think it unimportant for some reason."

"So we should carry them up to the rooms?" Randor asked. When the Sorceress nodded, he wasted no more time, but scooped Adam up at once.

"Is it done?" Marlena asked.

The Sorceress nodded. "It is done."

"How much of that was you?" Dorgan asked. "You were doing the same movements as Teela was."

"I was showing her what to do, nothing more," the Sorceress said. "None of the energy came from me."

"But you were behind her," Dorgan protested. "How could you have been showing her what to do?"

"Psychic projection," she said. "The power had to come from her, so the spell casting had to be hers, but she has never cast a spell before and I did not have time to teach her. It was easier by far to simply show her and feed her the words of the spell." She smiled at Dorgan's surprised expression. "Well, I could hardly stand in front of her, that would put me in the path of her spell."

They were silent after that until they reached the suite where the Sorceress directed them to put Adam and Teela on the same bed. "You should stay with them, however. They should wake up in an hour or so. When they do, I will provide a nourishing soup for them which you should get down them as quickly as possible because they will probably fall asleep fairly quickly again."

"Right," Marlena said, sitting down on the bed next to Teela. As soon as the two of them had been placed on the bed, they had cuddled close together. Cringer had jumped up and rested his body across their legs. Randor sat down next to Adam, feeling more than a little stunned by the light show they had all just witnessed.

"I will return if you need me," the Sorceress said. "Otherwise, I need to rest as well. I'm not nearly so exhausted as they are, but that took a lot out of me."

"Of course," Randor said. "And thank you for your help."

"It was the least I could do," she said and then left.

Duncan moved a chair from under the window to the end of the bed and sat heavily in it. "So that's it. They're permanently linked."

"If they can talk to each other telepathically after this, I hope they don't take into their heads to get into mischief," Dorgan said dryly. "That could make them impossible to catch at it."

"I think Adam thought I was going to expect him to act like a full grown married man instantly," Randor said.

"I hope you assured him that wasn't the case."

"I did my best. I think our actions will tell him better than words ever could."

"And we are damned well going to shield them, or him at any rate, from anyone who might start putting pressure on him to start producing heirs." Marlena looked adamant, and Randor had to agree with her. "That's the last thing he needs right now."

"We're going to shield him from everyone for awhile," Randor said. "He's eager to get home, but I'm still not altogether certain how he's going to react."

Marlena reached across and smoothed her son's rumpled hair. "Once we're home, I'll take most of the burden until he's more emotionally stable. He'll need you to be available."

He was dismayed by the wistfulness in her voice. "Marlena, I –"

She caught his hand and squeezed it. "Sweetheart, don't worry. I can hardly fault him for loving you, now can I?"

"It's not that he doesn't still love you," he said desperately. "He missed you terribly when you weren't here, and –"

Marlena squeezed his hand again. "I know, dear, I do. I'm not angry or upset, just a little . . . it's nothing that I can't handle."

He smiled at her, and the four of them sat silently for a long while. Dorgan got up and found himself a book, but the three parents seemed incapable of focusing on anything other than their children. Finally, Adam stirred a little. "What's . . . where . . . Dad?" With that last word, he sat up sharply.

"I'm here, Adam," Randor said immediately.

Adam turned and smiled like the sun coming out. "What happened? Did it . . ." His brow furrowed and he looked down at Teela. "It did . . . it worked."

"How do you know?" Dorgan asked.

The boy looked up and shrugged. "I don't know how I know, I just do. It's like I can feel . . . I thought she hated me for so long . . ." He turned and looked down at her again, then yawned. "I'm really tired," he said.

"The Sorceress said you'd fall asleep fairly quickly after waking up," Marlena said. "Where's the soup?"

A steaming mug appeared at Randor's elbow and he picked it up. "Drink this, son."

Adam took the mug and started drinking. He blinked and looked surprised. "It's not glop," he said in tones of wonderment. "It doesn't taste a lot better, but it's different."

Dorgan snorted. "Well, then I'll have to get its recipe, so I can provide it as a change of pace," he said dryly.

Adam nodded, chuckling. He drank down his soup and then passed it off to his father. "Is there more coming for Teela?" he asked.

Another mug appeared, and at that moment Teela started stirring. Adam reached down and brushed her hair off her face. "Wake up, Teela," he said. "Time to eat."

Teela's eyes opened and she looked up into Adam's. Randor saw a dawning joy and a warmth that echoed something in Adam's eyes. Teela reached up suddenly and hugged him tightly, pulling him down on top of her. "Idiot!" she growled in a muffled voice.

It was a bit startling, and Randor tensed, expecting a very negative reaction from Adam. Instead the boy pushed himself up on his arms and said, "Thanks. Eat."

Teela pushed herself up into a sitting position, her eyes widening as she saw the audience sitting around the room. She flushed and crossed her arms. Marlena put an arm around her shoulders. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Exhausted," Teela said. "Like I ran a marathon while screaming at the top of my lungs." Her voice was, in fact, somewhat hoarse. Randor handed across the fresh mug of soup. She started drinking and made a face at the taste.

Adam leaned back against the headboard next to her. "I already had mine," he said.

"Lucky you," Teela grumbled.

The boy chuckled and then looked over at his father. "Is there any chance I could have something else to wash that taste out of my mouth?" Before anyone could respond, he held up a finger. "Not glop," he added firmly.

"How about some iced chai?" his mother asked. Adam smiled and Duncan went out into the sitting room where there was some left over from breakfast. Neither Teela nor Adam had eaten. Before Adam awoke, she'd explained that they needed to fast before the ritual.

Adam took the chai with gratitude and Duncan handed the second glass to Marlena for Teela when she was done. Adam drank about half of it and then handed it to his father. He stretched, yawning, and then sighed wearily, leaned against Teela, laying his head on her shoulder, and said, "It's time to go back to sleep, soon, I think."

"We just woke up," Teela said, but she yawned broadly, too.

Randor was staring with a little startlement at Adam, leaning so comfortably against a girl he'd had trouble touching before. This spell was having an undoubtedly strong effect on both of them. Teela traded her empty soup mug for the chai and drank a few sips, then yawned again. Marlena took it and said, "I'll be going back to the palace soon, see you both tomorrow?"

"Sure," Teela said. Adam said nothing, for he appeared to be asleep already. Marlena bent and gave them each a kiss.

"I think I'd better go back, too," Duncan said.

Teela's eyes opened wider at this and she said, "You'll be back, right? In the morning?"

He nodded. "I'm assigning myself to the queen for the time being. She'd going to need someone to help her out."

"Okay," Teela said. With Randor's help, she got Adam down flat on the bed, curled up against him and fell asleep.

Randor looked up at his friend and said, "You do realize that this means I'm probably going to have to sleep in the same bed as Teela, tonight." Duncan nodded. "Good, because I hardly wanted to wake up with a cannon about here," he added, pointing at the middle of his chest.

He stood up and followed the others out into the sitting room. "I'll see you both in the morning, then," he said, feeling strangely abandoned.

Marlena came over and gave him a hug and a quick kiss. "I love you, Randor," she said softly.

"I love you, too, darling," he said. Once they had gone, he picked up a book and went to sit with the sleeping children.

* * *

Jeclarren lay still for long moments after she had finished with him, then he rolled over and forced himself to get dressed and stand up. Without speaking, she clothed herself in a simple robe and led him back to the room he shared with Sanviro. He didn't feel as dreadful as he had three days before, but he felt measurably worse than he usually did. Not only was he unutterably weary, but he felt sick deep in his soul.

He went into the room where Sanviro was waiting. The boy spoke to him, but Jeclarren didn't even really hear him. He just walked across to the bed and fell onto it. Daviona said something, and then he heard her footsteps going away. With her departure, something in him broke and he began to weep uncontrollably.

Sanviro came over and tried to speak to him, tried to get him to respond, but Jeclarren had nothing in him that would allow him to reply. He heard footsteps approaching, and he tried to muffle his sobs so that _she_ wouldn't notice. Sanviro left him, then returned as Daviona's footfalls faded into distance.

The boy slipped onto the bed with him, wrapping his arms around him. "What is it, Jeclarren?" he asked. "What did she do?" Jeclarren couldn't speak, couldn't find words. Eventually, he wept himself into the sweet release of sleep.

* * *

Duncan went to check on the various searches that were going on, and Marlena went into Randor's office where she found Mekanek waiting for her, just as she'd asked Jenkins to arrange. "Your highness, is something wrong? Jenkins just told me you'd asked for my presence."

She shook her head. "Nothing new, certainly," she said. "And Jenkins had no more information than that. I haven't told him what's going on yet." She pulled the letter Adam had written the night before out and handed it to him. "I don't know what Adam's written, but I'll go out and talk to Jenkins for a moment while you read it."

She left him alone looking rather as if he thought he was holding an unexploded bomb. Closing the door behind her, she turned to her husband's secretary. "Jenkins, we need to plan something with extreme secrecy. Are you prepared to do that?"

"Of course, your highness," the little man said, drawing himself upright. "What do we need to plan?"

Taking a deep breath, she explained the fact of but not the reasons for Adam's wedding. "He's still not entirely well, so we don't want it to be a large event. Only family and close friends." She handed him the list she and Duncan had worked up the night before. "This is the barest beginnings of a list. I want you to flesh it out a bit for me and then I can make some decisions regarding it. I also want you to get me a list of tailors, florists and musicians who have free time and are trustworthy."

"Of course, your highness," he said, bowing deeply.

"I will be sending out a number of messengers today, and I'll need the chief of the royal household in Randor's office in another hour."

"I will see to it, your highness. You can count on me."

"I know, Jenkins," she said. "Now, get to it." Turning she went back into Randor's office. Mekanek was staring out a window, and she could see his shoulders shaking a little. He'd taken his helmet off, it was sitting on the window seat beside him. As always, the join between flesh and machine gave her a bit of a jolt, but she shook it off and walked up behind him. "Are you all right?" she asked, putting a hand on his arm.

He turned his head and she could see that his eyes were streaming with tears. "You knew what he was asking, didn't you?" he asked.

"Of course. Mekanek, why are you crying? What did he say?"

Without speaking he held out the paper to her then turned back to the window. She read it swiftly, understanding immediately. Tears came to her own eyes and she reached out to squeeze his shoulder. "You mean a great deal to him, Mekanek."

"Why is it so sudden? He said I should ask you if I wanted to know."

Marlena took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You know that he is a well?" He nodded. "Did you know that Teela has turned out to have magical powers?"

He blinked. "I didn't know, but I suspected as much from things that have happened."

"Apparently the best and most foolproof way to protect a well is to bind him to a sorcerer. The power is thus protected from just anyone using it, and it's an unbreakable connection."

"And means they're going to get married almost immediately?" Mekanek asked, his eyes widening.

She nodded. "It creates a psychic link between the pair of them, and they couldn't marry anyone else. There are a number of complex reasons going into this decision, and believe me, we haven't taken this course lightly. The ritual binding them has already been performed."

He pursed his lips and whistled. "That's a big step," he said. "And I didn't mean to suggest that you were taking it lightly, I just was surprised."

"Well, if we hadn't done it now, someone else, like Evil-Lyn or Daviona, could have done it instead," she said. "That's really the key reason we moved head so quickly with the spell." He nodded and she smiled at him. "So, do you agree?"

"To be Adam's witness? Of course," Mekanek said. "I'm honored that he would think of me."

"Then I have a mission for you. I'd like you to go to the northern forests, to the town of . . ." She paused, peering at the letter. "To the town of Xeben to deliver this letter to Teela's friend Delira." Mekanek nodded, taking the letter from her. "If she agrees, I want you to bring her back with you. If her mother won't let her come alone, bring her mother, too. But she must come right away, because we need time to get her the proper clothing."

"Right," Mekanek said.

"You won't be the only one going out on wedding business," Marlena remarked. "I'm co-opting any of the masters I need to get things done. The wedding will be within the next two weeks, probably sooner than later."

"I see. Am I to tell Delira's family?"

Marlena bit her lip thoughtfully. "I believe that her parents would keep it to themselves. I don't know her siblings as well."

"I'll keep it to her and her parents then," Mekanek said. "Shall I go now?"

"Thank you, Mek," she said. "I'm more grateful than you can know to have you to rely on."

He smiled, put his helmet back on and, bowing slightly, left the room.

Marlena sat down behind the desk and started making lists of things that had to be accomplished and noting who she thought she could delegate each task to. After a few moments, there was a light tapping on the door and Marlena looked up. "Come, please," she said.

As she expected, Raon entered looking somewhat nervous. She smiled at him and gestured that he should shut the door and take a seat. He did and gazed at her worriedly. "Is Adam all right?" he asked.

"Adam is very well," she said. Picking up the letter she held it out to him. "This is from him."

After he took it, she rose again and left the room to check on Jenkins' progress. He had a list of tailors for her already, and the florist list was in progress. She smiled at him appreciatively. "Thank you for your promptitude. It's a great help." He glowed under the compliment and she scanned the list quickly. "Would you have Felix and Dartoa come to the palace this afternoon at about four o'clock?"

He made a notation on his pad and nodded. She judged that enough time had passed that Raon would probably have read his letter and went back in to the office. Raon was sitting stunned, staring at the letter. "He's marrying Teela?" Raon said as she shut the door. "Why?" He blinked and shook his head. "I don't mean why Teela, I've thought for years that was coming, but why now? Why so suddenly?"

She explained yet again, and Raon nodded slowly, his eyes widening. "So Romily was right?" he said with some amazement.

"Romily?" Marlena asked. "What has she to do with this?"

"Yesterday we were discussing Daviona and it came up that Adam is a well. Romily began to babble about binding spells and told us some stories about ancient wells and the sorcerers they were bonded to. Teela disappeared abruptly after lunch, and none of us could figure out why." He shook his head. "I never would have guessed that Teela was able to do magic. She doesn't seem the type."

Marlena wasn't sure what the 'magical type' was, but she didn't address that. "So, do you agree to Adam's request?" she asked.

He looked down at the letter and to her surprise and to his great embarrassment, he began to cry. "How could I not?" he asked. "He's . . . I don't know how he can forgive me for betraying him, but I couldn't deny him what he's asking me."

Marlena stood up and walked around the desk, sat down next to him and took his hand. "You didn't betray him, Raon. You couldn't control what happened."

"I should have . . ." His voice trailed off and Marlena squeezed his hand tightly.

"Do you blame Adam for anything he did while he was under Daviona's control?"

"Of course not," Raon said.

"Then don't blame yourself for what you were forced to do by Evil-Lyn. I'm the one who told you to go out and take a walk in the first place, if you'll recall, and I've been kicking myself since then that I sent you out alone."

"But you could never have expected that –"

"My point exactly, Raon. We both of us need to move past our guilt. It gets us nowhere, and we should reserve our blame for where it truly belongs." He sighed and then nodded. "I can tell you this, Raon, yours was the first name he came up with," she said. "He thought of you immediately."

The young man turned his face away for a few moments, then seemed to master himself. "I would be honored to stand at Adam's side, my queen," he said formally.

"I'm glad to hear it. I want you to spend some time thinking about who you think Adam's closest friends among your colleagues are, and anyone else you can think of for that matter. This wedding is to be very small indeed, and we want to make sure that the only people we invite are people that would mean something to Adam and Teela." Marlena blinked briefly. "And of course, you should list anyone you think is important to Teela as well." She smiled at him. "I will have other errands for you later, but I need to talk to one of Teela's witnesses now, so if you would just go and make that list for me and report back here at half past four?"

"Of course," he said, nodding. He got up to go. "Thank you, your highness."

Marlena sat, shaking her head, a little stunned by all of this. She wondered if Romily would weep on her as well.


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

Mekanek walked up to the address on the letter, hoping that he would find Delira at home. He remembered her as a pretty little minx with a cheerful disposition. The door opened as he approached and a young woman walked out. She had curly nut brown hair and pale blue eyes and she stared at him for a minute. "Mekanek?" she said in a startled voice. "You must be here to see my da." Turning her head she called back into the house. "Da! Mekanek is here from the capital."

He stepped forward. "Delira?" he asked and she smiled.

"You remember me!" she said, her eyes crinkling with delight.

"I do, very well," he replied. "And I'm actually here to see you on Teela's behalf."

Delira's eyes widened. "What? Why? Is she all right?"

"She's fine," Mekanek assured her, and then Ardigan came out. He was a neatly built, small man with dark hair and sparkling eyes of deepest blue. He'd been a member of the guard with them all those years ago, one of the many swept into the army for the battle against Keldor. After the unrest, he had retired and taken his family back to his hometown.

"Mekanek, it's wonderful to see you," he said, and his wife bustled out behind him. Mek smiled to see Sipriana after so many years.

"Come in, come in, Mekanek," she said. "Please, will you join us for dinner?"

"Actually, I've come on a very specific mission, to deliver a letter from Captain Teela to Delira, and I need to wait for her response."

"Oh." Ardigan exchanged a concerned glance with his wife and said, "Of course. Please, come in, we can talk in the kitchen while Delira reads her letter."

Mekanek nodded and handed the letter to the girl. "Now, Delira, I want you to do me a favor." She nodded, wide-eyed. "Please read your letter in private, and don't discuss the contents with anyone. Just come and fetch me when you're done."

"Have you read it?" Delira asked uncertainly.

"No, but I have a good idea of at least part of its contents," he said, smiling. "It's not a bad thing, so don't worry."

"Oh, okay," she said. Then she nodded to him and went into the house.

Ardigan gestured for him to precede him into the house and led him into the kitchen where Sipriana practically shoved him down into a chair and plied him with iced tea. "What's going on?" Ardigan asked. "Is all well?"

"I'm not really supposed to explain until Delira's read her letter," Mekanek said uncomfortably. "How are things for the two of you up here?"

"We're doing very well," said Sipriana. "The two boys are married, and Delira's older sister. We already have four grandchildren."

"That's wonderful," Mekanek said, feeling a stab of unexpected grief. Phillip would be nearly twenty-three now, if he'd lived, and Mekanek might have had a grandchild of his own. Ten years, it seemed a terribly long time, and terribly short, all at once.

Sipriana smiled sympathetically at him. "Morvin named his second son Phillip," she said, and that did it. Mekanek bit his lip to keep from crying. She burbled on which helped immensely. "He's three and a half, now, and gets into more trouble with his older brother and cousin. He has a baby sister, now, though and he dotes on her."

"Baby?" Ardigan exclaimed, sounding amused. "She's almost two and walking. He tries to pick her up all the time. It's very funny because he's not that much bigger than she is."

"That sounds delightful," Mekanek said, grinning. "I miss having –"

There was a sudden feminine shriek from the direction Delira had taken, and Mekanek caught Ardigan's arm as he started to jump up. "Don't worry. I think she's just gotten to the part I know about. It's okay, really."

"What's going on?" Ardigan asked.

"I'm not supposed to say."

"Mekanek!" Ardigan growled. "I –"

Delira bounced into the kitchen. "Yes, oh yes! Of course! I'd love to!"

"You'd love to what?" her mother asked, looking startled and amused.

"I –" She looked at Mekanek. "I can tell them, can't I?"

"Well, of course, but is there a more private room we can talk in?" he asked. "I have permission to tell you three, but not anyone else."

"Of course," Ardigan said, raising an eyebrow. "Come along into the bedroom."

"Ardie!" Sipriana exclaimed. "It's – it's a terrible – it's –"

"My room is neat," Delira said.

"Delira!" her mother expostulated in an undertone.

"It's not your fault, Mama," Delira said. "It's Da."

Sipriana glared at her daughter. Mekanek chuckled. "Oh, don't worry. I know all about it. I shared a tent with him once."

"Thank you, Mekanek," Ardigan said dryly. "You're so supportive."

Mekanek grinned at him. "I try."

They made their way into Delira's bedroom, and Mekanek stood politely, waiting for them to sort themselves out.

"Well?" Ardigan said when they were all settled.

"Prince Adam is marrying Teela!" Delira exclaimed gleefully. "And she wants me to be her chief witness!"

Both of her parents' eyes widened, and they looked at Mekanek. He could see the thought in their eyes. _But they're so young!_ He shrugged slightly and said, "So, I'm here to bring you back to the palace if you want to do it."

"Of course I want to," she said eagerly. "I haven't seen Teela in ages, and she's my very best friend! I would have asked her if I got married, but we're fresh out of young men around here."

"Isn't this fairly sudden?" Sipriana asked. Her forehead wrinkled and her voice grew very worried. "How badly off is the prince?"

"His life is no longer in danger, but he's still recovering," Mekanek said. He would have given the same question from a courtier short shrift, but this woman had watched Adam play with her children when they were all small. She had been there with sympathy and help when Vera died so soon after Phillip had been born. "It may be a long road, but he will get better."

"I'm glad to hear it," Ardigan said. "When will this wedding be?"

"Within two weeks," Mekanek said. "Marlena – I mean, her highness, asked me to bring Delira back immediately."

"Two weeks?!" Sipriana exclaimed. "But why – what – are you sure he's –"

Mekanek shook his head. "There are reasons I can't explain, but it's not his health."

"Oh." Sipriana looked worried, and then her eyes grew very round. "She's not –"

"No!" Mekanek said firmly, startled by the question. "No, she's not . . . she's – they haven't –" He broke off his babbling before he could finish that sentence.

Delira looked up and said, "They're not?" Her voice was kind of wistful and surprised.

"Delira!" her mother exclaimed, looking aghast.

"But I thought – I mean, they are getting married, and –"

"Delira!" her mother repeated warningly.

"But you just asked if she –"

"It's entirely different!" Sipriana said.

Mekanek could only focus on keep himself from looking amused. It was difficult, in the face of that argument, to keep his face neutral, and then he inadvertantly caught Ardigan's eye. The other man, too, was looking determinedly unamused, but the accidental meeting of their glances nearly undid them both. Mekanek turned away sharply, maintaining his expression by sheer will power. He didn't look at Ardigan again.

"Well, I'm not sure she's discreet enough to be part of a royal wedding," Sipriana said, glowering at her daughter who looked rebellious and abashed at the same time. Only adolescents could maintain such diametrically opposed emotional states, Mekanek reflected. "But if Teela wants her, I don't see how we could say no. I insist on coming along, however."

"Naturally," Mekanek said. "Marlena was definite on that point."

"What about me?" Ardigan said, looking mildly affronted. "Am I not welcome?"

"Of course you're welcome," Mekanek said. Marlena wouldn't object, he was sure. "But Delira has to come now."

"Right," Sipriana said. "Give us a bit of time to pack." Mekanek retired to the kitchen, knowing that he didn't need to be there for Delira's packing. He hoped the girl wouldn't dither too much about what to bring.

There was a bit of bother, and Mekanek sat through it quietly. Ardigan had evidently sent for his sons and son-in-law, because they showed up partway through the packing and disappeared into the rear yard with the older man. Some very small children wandered into the kitchen and a little boy of about five walked up to Mekanek holding the hand of a smaller boy and said, "Who are you?"

"My name is Mekanek," he said. "And you?"

"I'm Tarkin," the boy said. "And this is my brother Phillip." Mekanek looked down at the small, dark-haired boy who smiled up at him sunnily. "If you're Mekanek, doesn't that mean that your neck can get really really long?"

He grinned and raised his head a foot or so and both boys' eyes went round with amazement. "I can make it longer than this," he said, "but there's not enough room in here."

Tarkin looked thoughtful. "So, how do you decide how tall you are? Is it as long as your neck can go, or when your head's in its normal place?"

"When my head's in its normal place," Mekanek said, lowering his head back down again. "Though it does come in handy for crowds. I can be taller than anyone in front of me."

"I wish I could," Tarkin said. "Nana says she's going away with you for a little while," he went on. "Can I come, too?"

"Did you ask your nana?" Mekanek asked. Little Phillip nodded and Tarkin sighed. "What did she say?"

"No," Tarkin said glumly.

"Well, then," Mekanek said, suppressing a smile. "There's your answer." Tarkin looked disappointed. "You wouldn't have any fun anyway," Mek added. "It's just a bunch of grown up stuff. Nothing for kids to do."

"Oh," Tarkin said, and Phillip nodded sagely. He chatted with the children while Delira, Sipriana and Ardigan got themselves ready. To his surprise, Delira was ready well before her mother was. Sipriana seemed caught by the notion that she was going to court and was dithering the way he'd expected the girl to.

Finally Delira said, "Mama, the queen won't expect us to have fancy clothing. Haven't you said more than once that she was a farmer's daughter and that's why she's so sensible?" Mekanek didn't laugh. At that point, Ardigan took his wife into their bedroom and they emerged twenty minutes later with two valises and a basket.

* * *

Duncan was just clearing his desk of reports when he got a buzz on his comlink. "Man-at-Arms," he said.

"Sir, this is Marek." Duncan nodded, Marek was in charge of the investigation into the histories of Sanviro and Jeclarren. Duncan hadn't given that investigation much consideration in recent days beyond a passing thought that they should discontinue it. "We have a man here I think you need to talk to."

A bit startled, Duncan knit his brows. "Who is it?"

"I think it would be better if you came here and talked to him, sir," Marek said, sounding uncomfortable. "I'm not sure exactly who he is. I mean, his name is Duros, and he . . . I really think you should come."

"I'll be there in forty minutes."

He wrapped things up, sent a message to Marlena and went out to Tronak where the team was working. There was a burly man sitting in the outer room of the suite they were still maintaining at the Leaping Boar. Marek was speaking placatingly to him, but upon Duncan's entry the man rose truculently and said, "Is this who we've been waiting for?"

"Yes, sir," Marek said, turning an imploring look on Man-at-Arms as the visible representation of real authority.

"I want answers!" he said, glaring at the newcomer. "Who are you?"

"I'm Duncan, the king's man-at-arms," he said, nodding politely.

Duros deflated. "Elders alive, what is going on?" he breathed, looking appalled.

"I'm not sure what you've been told," Duncan said, glancing at Marek.

"I came because I heard that people were asking questions about me," he said. "Somebody who seemed to have the notion that I was dead and was trying to find out about me from some people that I used to work for. It made them nervous, so they didn't tell them anything, but sent word to me. All I can get out of this man is that it has to do with an open investigation for the crown. I didn't . . . I didn't realize he meant quite that directly for the crown."

Duncan looked around. "Is anyone in the back room?"

"Not right now," Marek said.

"Please, sir, would you go in and wait for me." Duros opened his mouth to protest and Duncan lifted a restraining hand. "I won't be more than five minutes." Looking only marginally satisfied, the man walked into the room and shut the door behind him. "What's going on, Marek? Who is he, and why did we think he was dead?"

"That's just the thing, sir, he's connected to the boy Jeclarren. He's supposed to have been his guardian at one point, though not legally, during the Unrest. What little we know is that he was killed in the fire that destroyed Garoden."

"Obviously not," Duncan said dryly.

Marek grimaced. "I didn't know what to tell him, so I didn't tell him anything."

"I see. I'll take it from here." Marek looked immeasurably relieved. Taking a deep breath, Duncan walked into the back room.

"What is going on?" Duros asked pleadingly as Duncan shut the door behind him. "I don't understand how I could become connected with any kind of crown investigation."

"It's my understanding that you know a young man named Jeclarren?" Duncan said.

Duros' eyes widened. "I did," he said. "He disappeared during the fire at Garoden. I looked for him, I tried to find him for years." His face was a study in terror and hope. "Why do you ask?"

"Who was Jeclarren to you?" Duncan asked.

Duros took a deep breath. "He was my son," he said. "Not literally, but . . . his mother and I became close after her husband disappeared in the war. We couldn't marry because her husband wasn't legally dead, even though he'd been gone for three years. She was still pregnant when he vanished." He shook his head. "She died of a fever when the boy was five. I took him around with me, but adoption takes money, and I was always afraid that the government would take him away from me because Anissa and I never married, and I didn't have any proof that I had a right to be looking after him."

"I see," Duncan said, grimacing. "You would have adopted him, though? You thought of him as your son?"

"I did. I do. Why all these questions? What's going on? What does it have to do with Jeclarren?" The man's expression was full of hope and fear mingled inextricably together. Duncan wished he had better answers for him.

"Jeclarren believed that you died in the fire at Garoden, it appears," he said. "That's where we got our information, from things he told people he knew."

"Where is he?" Duros asked desperately. "I've looked, but I've had no luck. It's been ten years, and I thought surely he was dead or . . . he was only nine when he went missing."

Duncan stood up and went over to a cabinet. Inside were the things Jeclarren had left in his lodgings. They'd rescued them from his landlady who'd been preparing to sell them and brought them here in case they might aid in the search. "Do these look familiar to you, by any chance?"

The man's face went white. "Where is he? Is he dead now?"

Duncan shook his head and put the tools back. "No, we don't think so," he said. This was going to be hell. "He's been abducted along with another young man, by a wizardess."

The remaining color drained from Duros' face. "A wizardess? But . . . you don't think he's dead? What does she want with him?"

Duncan bit his lip. "It's difficult to explain," he said. "She seeks out young men who have no families, no ties to their communities, and we genuinely thought that Jeclarren was one of those. He lived here in Tronak, by the way, most recently. He'd been here about six months, as I understand it."

"And? The wizardess? What does she do with the young men she . . . what does she do?"

"She uses them for servants and guards," Duncan said. "She draws energy off them to do magic with, and she . . . she . . ." Duncan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "She uses them sexually. It's a form of magic she does." Duros' eyes widened in shock. "We don't know what condition he'll be in when we find him, but we are looking for him, and for the other young man she took at the same time."

"How can she . . . does she lure them away somehow?"

"Apparently she used some kind of controlling spell on them, and once she's got them, she uses both magic and drugs to keep them under control. I'm sorry, so dreadfully sorry to have to tell you this."

Duros closed his eyes and shook his head. "How could this happen?" he asked, sounding as if he was growing angry. "How could the king allow this to happen?"

"I understand your anger," Duncan said. "We didn't expect her to take prisoners at that point. She seemed rather focused on one goal, and it didn't . . . I can't apologize enough."

"How can you possibly understand my anger?" Duros demanded. "I left him as a frightened boy on the edge of the forest outside Garoden, and now I find out that he's . . . he's being mauled by some evil wizardess. It's vile!"

"I know," Duncan said. "The king will want to speak with you, to express his sympathy. He's –"

"The king?" Duros' eyes widened. "Why would he bother with the likes of me? I'm not even the boy's real father, after all." There was bitterness in his tone, and Duncan wondered what had put it there. What had happened to make him so very angry?

"That won't matter to Randor," Duncan said. "He knows that adoptive parents are as loving as any other."

"Oh, does he?" Duros growled. "And just how do you know that?"

Duncan shrugged. "My daughter is adopted," he said, and Duros' eyes widened. "And Randor and I have been friends since before the war."

Duros moistened his lips, and Duncan had the sense that he was picking his words with care. "Well, then, perhaps he ought to let his constables and wardens know. I got precious little help from any of them. It was during the Unrest, so I know it was a very difficult time and lots of records were destroyed, but once people found out I wasn't the boy's natural father, they shunted me to the side to talk to someone else with a better claim on the child they were seeking."

Duncan grimaced. "That will be addressed, I assure you. Randor plans to overhaul the whole system governing children who have lost parents. It has proven to be inadequate in the extreme." Duros didn't look placated. "We are looking for them. Both Jeclarren and Sanviro." He looked down at his hands, all too aware that this was his own failure. "It's my fault, really," he said. "Don't blame Randor. He put this investigation into my hands, and I didn't get warnings out against the witch in time."

"What was he doing that was so important that he put this investigation into your hands?" Duros demanded. "He's the king, and there's a witch feeding off his populace."

"He was looking after his son," Duncan said.

"His son?" Duros asked. "I know the prince is ill, but surely there are healers, medics, his mother, to look after him."

"It had to be Randor," Duncan said. "There was no choice." He gazed assessingly at Duros. The reasons for why they'd told Romily the everything held true for him as well. He would know what happened to Jeclarren, so, eventually, he'd know what happened to Adam as well. "If I tell you something that is of a confidential nature, something that is extremely private, will you keep it to yourself?"

"Of course," Duros replied, seeming a bit taken aback by the apparent change in topic.

Duncan looked down at his hands. "We know about the witch, Daviona, and what she's likely to do to her captives because she abducted and tortured the prince." He bit his lip, pausing. "He's sixteen."

"She . . ." Duros stopped seeming briefly at a loss for words. "She did that – what you said – to the prince?"

Duncan nodded. "She did," he replied. "Adam is only just recovering. That's part of why I said we're not sure what condition the boys will be in when we find them. I don't know what she's got, wherever she is. We appear to have interrupted her in the midst of brewing the most pernicious of the drugs that she used on Adam, but we have no way of knowing if she had more in stock, or if she's made more."

"How old is the other boy?" Duros asked in a subdued voice.

"Seventeen," Duncan replied. "He's also an orphan, though he had found a family in a small village near here that took him in. He's betrothed and the marriage was set for the spring after the pair of them both turn eighteen."

"What a wretched woman! How – how long has she been doing this?" Duros' anger was resurging, and Duncan couldn't blame him. He had to be wondering how long Randor had let this go on without catching it.

"Four hundred and fifty years," Duncan said grimly. "We only uncovered her because she got hold of the prince and we searched her out."

Duros' jaw dropped. "But . . . surely the Council of Elders would have –"

"You'd have thought so, but apparently not." Duncan shook his head disgustedly. "There wasn't even a hint of her existence until Adam disappeared. And when we found him . . . that's what I meant about the system for dealing with orphans. She'd been collecting these boys from orphanages when they were twelve, training them to be her servants and then using them. There were twelve adult men and two young boys in her keeping when we found her. The men range in age from thirty to about eighty-five, but the drugs and magic she's used on them have kept them looking about twenty."

"Elders," Duros breathed. "So if Jeclarren had wound up in an orphanage . . ."

Duncan closed his eyes, suppressing a shudder. "He might have been in the infirmary at the palace right now while we tried to work out how to deprogram him." Duncan heaved a sigh. "We've had people looking into their backgrounds, but how do you explain to the relatives of an eighty-five year old man – who looks approximately twenty-three – that he is who he is?"

"How dreadful," Duros said feelingly. "But Jeclarren . . . what can I expect?"

"I don't know. We have reason to believe that he wasn't . . . completely inexperienced when she took him, so that may help him to deal with the trauma, but it's hard to say. It depends in part on what drugs she's used on him and how much she's done to him. We don't know what she may have forced him to do."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Duros asked desperately.

"Were the two of you close?" Duncan asked. "I mean, I know you were looking for him, and I'm sure you cared about him, but were you emotionally close?"

Duros nodded. "We were very close," he said. "I couldn't have loved my own son any more." His expression softened with nostalgia. "He called me Da and told me everything a boy that age will tell a father."

"Then he may need you," Duncan said, touched by the naked emotion on the man's face. "Very badly. He will come out of this in need of a great deal of emotional support and reassurance, and until you showed up, we had no one to provide that for him. The other young man's betrothed is already at the palace."

"What about him?" Duros asked. "Does he have someone who can support him, someone male?"

Duncan nodded. "Either his betrothed's father or the tanner who took him in as his apprentice. We're not sure which will be more suitable. Unfortunately, a lot depends on several factors that we can't predict with any surety."

"Things this woman might do to them?" Duros asked uneasily.

Duncan nodded. "Look, I don't know where you live, or if you have a job you can't leave, but you would be welcome at the palace. We don't know when we'll find Jeclarren, and it would be best if you were on hand immediately to be there for him. With Adam, only having his father on the spot kept him together."

"I'm between assignments just now," Duros said, seeming somewhat stunned. "I've been helping with the construction in Parthia after the recent damage." Duncan nodded. He knew about that damage all too well, having unfortunately contributed to it in an effort to keep a monster called by Skeletor from killing most of the populace of the city. "Most of the rough work is done there, though. I've got a few offers, but I don't have to take them."

"Do you have things to collect?" Duncan asked.

He nodded. "I would have to go settle up at my lodgings and collect my belongings. Wouldn't take me more than a half hour, though, I travel a lot."

Duncan considered briefly, then pulled out his comlink and put in the code for Randor's office. Marlena answered, sounding somewhat harried. "Your highness?"

"Duncan? What can I do for you?"

"We've just turned up Jeclarren's adoptive father, and I'm bringing him back to the palace."

"Elders! I thought that poor boy was alone in the world."

"They were separated during the Unrest," Duncan said.

"Ah." That single syllable carried loads of understanding. "Yes, bring him. I'll have another room set aside for him."

"Do you need me to do anything while I'm out?" he asked.

"Where are you?"

"In Tronak, now, but I'll be stopping by Parthia."

"Parthia?" She paused. "Can you stop in Derata on your way back from there? There's a consignment of cloth that needs to be brought here as quickly as possible. If you could pick it up, that would free Ram-Man for . . ."

"I'll pick it up, Marlena, don't worry."

"Thank you, Duncan. Please bring this gentleman to see me when he arrives. Now, I have to go back and talk to the tailors. I will see you later." She disconnected abruptly, and Duncan chuckled.

"Was that the queen?" Duros asked.

Duncan nodded. "Let's get to your lodgings and get that taken care of, if you don't mind," Duncan said. Duros agreed wordlessly and followed him out to the wind raider. He was as good as his word, wrapping up his affairs in just under a half hour. At that time, he emerged from his building, handed a note to a messenger and returned to the vehicle, tossing a heavy box and a lighter bag into the back seat. "Thank you," he said.

"It's nothing," Duncan said.

"No, it's something," Duros corrected as they took off. "You folks needn't take this much care, and I think it important to acknowledge that. I was angry earlier, but I shouldn't have been."

Duncan shrugged. "I'm livid," he said calmly. "I haven't been this angry in years, and I truly can't imagine what it must be like for you to finally come so close to finding a child you lost that many years ago, only to discover that he's been . . ." Duncan shook his head, gulping. "Randor and Marlena helped raise my daughter, and I helped raise their son."

"Don't let's talk about it," Duros said. "What are we gathering cloth for?"

"In for a copper in for a crown," Duncan muttered in wry amusement. "But since you're going to be at the palace and in the inner circle at the moment, you'd best know so you don't guess at the wrong moment. Prince Adam is getting married very soon, and very suddenly. There is a lot of extremely hectic planning going on, and that's what the fabric is for, or so I presume."

"But, if he's sixteen and he's just been . . ." Duros' eyes were very wide.

"I know," Duncan said. "There are reasons that have nothing to do with the ordinary reasons people get married, and that I'm not at liberty to discuss." He grimaced. "He's marrying my daughter, who is also sixteen."

Duros looked at him curiously. "Should I offer congratulations or sympathy?"

"I don't know," Duncan said. "Both, maybe?"

* * *

Adam awoke to the sensation of a rough tongue on his face. He blinked and looked up into the amber eyes of Cringer who was standing over him and gazing worriedly down.

His father loomed into view above the cat. "Cringer, don't do that! Let them sleep."

The prince reached up a hand and chucked his cat under the chin. "S'okay, Dad, I'm awake." Cringer hand a paw on Adam's hip and he nuzzled his shoulder. "What're you doing, Cringe?" he asked. Adam looked down where Teela lay nestled in the crook of his arm.

Her eyes were closed and her face was completely at rest. It was odd to see her face that quiet. Usually it was alive with the force of her personality, filled with the quicksilver of changing emotions. Beauty slept in his arms. A wry grin twitched his lips. Yet somehow, she was even more beautiful when she was dashing about, shouting orders on a battlefield, or even when she was insulting him, her green eyes flashing with ire.

Those eyes flickered and then opened, and then they widened when she saw him looking down at her. "Hi," she said in a bashful voice.

"Um . . ." He didn't know what to say but was rescued from making a complete ass of himself by his father.

"Both of you need to eat something," the king said.

Adam rolled onto his back and Teela sat up. "Did my father say he was leaving with the queen?" Teela asked. Cringer had walked over and settled firmly across Adam's middle, making it a bit difficult to get up.

"Yes, Teela, he did. Adam, are you – oh." His father stopped in midsentence with an amused voice. "Cringer, get off."

With his father pulling and Adam pushing, they managed to shift Cringer so that Adam could get up, but the tiger shadowed his movements so closely that Adam had a little trouble walking a straight line. They headed out into the sitting room where savory aromas rose from two plates on the table. Dorgan, who had papers spread out at the other end of the table, was looking at the food bemusedly.

"When did –" Randor started, but Dorgan answered amost before the king started speaking.

"Just a moment ago," he said. "She must have known they woke up. She's very prompt."

Adam smiled and settled down in a chair. "Looks good," he said. Cringer sat down on his feet, leaning against his knees, and Adam reached down to stroke his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Cringe. What's up, big guy?"

The tiger didn't respond in any obvious way, but his weight against Adam's legs seemed to increase measurably. Adam had noticed over the years that cats seemed to have an ability to affect gravity when it suited them, making it possible for them to leap incredible distances at one moment, then to double their weight when they didn't want to be moved.

Adam's gut rumbled, and he shifted his attention from the anxious feline to his plate, which was full to brimming with a rich fish stew, heavy with vegetables and legumes. Fresh, crusty bread, still warm from the ovens and laden with creamy butter sat between the plates. Teela sat down across from him and seized a hunk of bread. "I'm starving," she said.

"I'm not surprised," Dorgan replied. "You've been asleep since mid morning, and it's coming up on seven o'clock in the evening."

Adam looked out the window and saw that the moons were high in the sky. "We slept through the whole day?" he said incredulously.

"I feel like I could sleep all night, too," Teela said. "Is that right? Should I be this tired?"

"According to the Sorceress it was an unexpected side effect of the spell you cast today," Adam's father said. Teela looked extremely uncomfortable, and Adam guessed she didn't like to think about having cast a spell.

He opened his mouth to make a joking comment, but before he could speak, a yawn took him over. "I think I could sleep another twelve hours," he said. "Why am I so sleepy? I didn't cast any magic."

"Don't be an idiot," Teela said, smacking his hand. He looked at her, surprised that for once, the insult didn't sting. "I drew power from you as part of the binding ritual."

"Still," he said, then he yawned again, echoed by Teela.

"Stop doing that!" she growled.

"I can't help it," Adam retorted.

"Try repressing them," she said.

"Why?" he demanded.

"Because they're contagious."

"Then don't look."

With exaggerated patience, she said, "You make noise."

Mimicking her tones, he replied, "Then plug your ears."

"Right," she snapped. "How am I supposed to eat with my eyes closed and my ears plugged?"

"I don't know," he said. "How are you supposed to chew while you're grousing?"

* * *

Randor was very glad to see them acting like ordinary kids again, but enough was enough. "Children!" he said warningly.

They both started guiltily and Adam looked at him with his eyes wide and a good deal more worried that the occasion merited. "Sorry, Dad," he said, sounding upset.

Dorgan's eyebrows went up and Randor walked over and sat down with them. "No worries," he said. "It was just getting a little loud." Adam seemed to calm a bit when he sat down, and Randor grinned. "Tomorrow we'll have to see if Teela's card skills have improved."

"Yeah," Adam said and Teela glowered at them both.

"I was distracted last time," she said firmly. "It won't happen . . . again." She yawned mid-sentence, and this time Adam echoed her. The boy opened his mouth to make some kind of comment, but he seemed to think better of it when Teela raised a single eyebrow.

He pursed his lips and then grinned. "We'll see. I've gotten better at cards over the last–" Adam broke off sharply and his face clouded over. There was a brief silence into which Adam said, "The fish is excellent. Very flaky and tender."

"Yes," Teela replied. She leaned across the table and squeezed his hand as Randor put a hand on his shoulder.

Adam forced a laugh. "I'm fine. You don't have to get all maudlin at me."

Randor drew back. If Adam's dignity was asserting itself, he wouldn't push it right now. "Quite right," he said gruffly.

"But –" Teela was staring back and forth between them looking utterly perplexed. Randor gave her an infinitesimal shake of his head and she subsided. Adam looked down at his plate, not saying anything. "Well, it is excellent fish stew."

The conversation centered around the food from then until the pair of them had finished. Then they both visited the privy and, looking utterly exhausted, got back into bed, both into the same one without seeming to think about it. Teela curled up as Adam climbed in. Cringer walked up between the two of them and flopped down.

"I'm tired of this," the boy groaned.

"Tired of what?" Dorgan asked from the doorway.

"Tired of doing one thing, then sleeping for the whole day afterwards. It's getting really old." He rolled over and threw his arm over Cringer. Randor tucked him in and stood up. Adam's eyes widened and he caught his father's arm. "Where are you going?" he asked urgently.

Randor smiled down at him reassuringly. "I'm just going into the next room for a few minutes," he said. "I'll be back shortly."

Adam nodded, then he turned back towards Cringer. Teela had snuggled up to the great cat who looked a bit uncertain, but not at all unhappy. Adam cuddled up against him as well and went to sleep. Randor went with Dorgan back into the sitting room.

"I heard Orko come in, but I missed most of the conversation. What's the situation?"

"The treatment is ready and can in fact be performed on Adam directly. The Sorceress said that he and Teela need tomorrow to spend time together normally, and when Orko understood what had been done, he agreed. So we plan to administer the treatment the day after."

Randor nodded. "That seems reasonable," he said. "And it will make him sick, like the others did?"

"Very," Dorgan agreed. "It –"

The door to the bedroom opened, and Adam emerged, tousle-haired and sleepy. "I can't get to sleep properly without you in here," he said, looking both embarrassed and desperate.

Randor rose instantly. "I'm sorry, son. I'll come in right now." He walked back in with Adam and got him back into bed and tucked up next to Cringer. While Randor's hand was in range briefly, Cringer nuzzled it affectionately. The king fetched a book and sat down on the bed next to his son. Adam curled up, his head on Randor's lap and his back pressed firmly against the cat.

When they'd been asleep for about an hour, Randor noticed that Teela's hand seemed to be seeking for something. Her fingers found Adam's hip, and her arm relaxed, hand resting on Adam. Awhile later, Adam rolled over and reached across Cringer to touch her on the waist. One hip had gone out of range, but the other hip took its place under Teela's questing hand. Watching this, Randor wondered if they would ever sleep easily apart after this.


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

Jeclarren awoke aware only of a crushing burden of misery, shock and horror. Sanviro still slept, and the lights were very dim. He rose and took care of a pressing need, then stood in the middle of the floor, staring at nothing, thinking nothing, feeling every wretched emotion he knew. How long he stood there he didn't know, but after a long while, his legs grew tired and he sat down on the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them.

Once again time passed without markers, a stretch of desolate silence, broken only by the sounds Sanviro made in his sleep. Jeclarren was aware of him, aware of the room, but nothing mattered, nothing could touch him.

The lights came on awhile later, and there were footsteps. Then Sanviro was beside him. "Jeclarren, what are you doing?" The other man put an arm around his shoulders, then exclaimed, "You're ice cold!"

An odd thought wisped through Jeclarren's mind. _I'm not cold . . . I should be shivering . . ._ Sanviro vanished for a moment then came back with a blanket that he wrapped around Jeclarren's shoulders.

"Let's get you up off the floor," Sanviro said. "Come on." Jeclarren wondered vaguely why he was bothering, but Sanviro was being sufficiently persistent that he gave in and got up. He sat on the chair that Sanviro guided him to and put his head down on his arms on the table. It was made of a very fine-grained wood, he noted, well-sanded and highly polished. Gradually, he became aware that Sanviro was still talking. "Jeclarren, what's wrong?" he asked. "What happened?" He kept repeating the questions until there were footsteps outside the room.

Jeclarren felt his whole body tense and he started shaking. Either the blanket that was still draped over him concealed this fact, or she didn't care, because she didn't say anything to him. The footsteps started again, moving away, and Sanviro returned to the table. He saw the increased reaction and pulled his chair to sit by Jeclarren.

"What is it?" he asked urgently. "You've got to talk about it." Jeclarren didn't speak. Sanviro kept trying for awhile, and rubbed his arms to warm him. Eventually the tremors ceased on their own.

Finally, words emerged unbidden from Jeclarren's mouth. "She's killing someone today."

At this point, Sanviro was in the middle of putting Jeclarren's breakfast in front of him, trying to get him to eat. "What?" he faltered. "Who?"

"I thought it was going to be one of us. You," Jeclarren said. He could hear his voice, but the words sounded like they came from someone else. The color drained from Sanviro's face. "She told me I was wrong, that we're developing too close a bond. That she was going to kill someone while she was out running errands." His shoulders began to shake again. "And, Elders help me, I was glad." He suddenly recognized what the shaking in his shoulders meant. Great racking sobs were traveling through him, but there were no tears.

"Ancients and Elders," Sanviro breathed. He put his arms around Jeclarren, but the chairs they were sitting in weren't suited to the gesture. Within moments they were both on the floor and Jeclarren was leaning against the younger man, his head on Sanviro's shoulder. Tears flooded forth abruptly, and he sobbed on the other man's shoulder for ages.

* * *

Things had been quiet around Snake Mountain for more than a week and Evil-Lyn was growing apprehensive. When Skeletor was quiet, it generally meant that he was hatching some insane plot or another. One which he would expect the rest of them to carry out, no matter how impossible it was.

So when he summoned her midmorning, she put down the experiment she had started with a resigned sigh and went to his throne room.

"Good morning, Evil-Lyn," he said genially. "That is all, Tri-Klops." The surly engineer bowed and backed out, passing her as she approached the throne.

"Good morning, Lord Skeletor," she said, bowing.

He favored her with a look that suggested that he was very well pleased with himself. "I have a task for you, my dear."

"Of course, Skeletor. You have but to command." The irony in her tone was clearly audible, and she could see that it was not lost on Skeletor, but he didn't seem to mind.

"I want you to increase our magical defenses. I have already asked Tri-Klops to strengthen the physical."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are we expecting an attack? Is there any specific form of magic I should guard against?"

He shook his head. "Imagine the most effective attacks you can and defend against them. Then search out attacks you would never think of, and defend against them as well." He nodded at her surprised expression. "Once we have Prince Adam, we can expect to be attacked from all directions. Not merely by his father and He-Man, but, the moment word spreads that he is a well and I have him, we can expect every wizard and sorcerer on the planet to attempt to secure him, and his power, for themselves."

"I see," she said.

"Once I have bound him to myself," Skeletor went on, clenching one fist in almost an attitude of one seizing a treasure, "I will have the power to take all Eternia in my grasp. But it may take time, once I have him, to accustom myself to the new power. With such an opportunity before us, we must not take foolish risks."

Evil-Lyn stared in incredulous silence up at the Lord of Snake Mountain for several long moments. Keldor had been a long range thinker, able to see possibilities and plan for consequences. It was one of the things he seemed to have lost in becoming Skeletor. Yet this plan . . . it looked to the future.

She realized that her silence was dragging on and cleared his throat. "Of course, Lord Skeletor," she said.

"We will seize him when he's been home for a few days. I want Randor to think he's safe, relax his guard a bit." Evil-Lyn nodded. "Just remember, until he's been bound to someone, he's very much up for grabs to whoever gets him first."

_Bound to him? What does he mean?_ It was clear she was missing something specific, but what?

"I have some preparations of my own to make. The transformation spell will be quite tasking. Perhaps I should bind him to myself first, then use his own power to transform him." The skull-faced man chuckled. "Report to me with your plans in a day or so."

As she left, Beastman was entering. She wondered what preparations Skeletor wanted the oaf to make. Hurrying back to her chambers, she pulled out the references she had found that referred to wells. Once she had ascertained just what Adam was, she had discontinued her research. Evidently that had been a mistake.

Especially since it took her no more than ten minutes' reading to discover exactly what Skeletor meant. She raised her eyes from the page and stared at nothing. Once the power was bound to a sorcerer, the distance between the well and the sorcerer was of no moment. The sheer magnitude of what a well like Adam offered to any who could secure that access was unbelievable, impossible, intoxicating.

The temptation was incredible. Evil-Lyn imagined that amount of power at her fingertips. The desire was almost overwhelming. Sanity asserted itself however. She was very much satisfied with being beside the power rather than in the center of it. The focus of power tends to be a very dangerous place to stand.

What she didn't fully understand was why Skeletor would continue with the transformation. That was originally planned in order to make it possible for Skeletor to drain magic using sexual means. But the books were explicit that such means were unnecessary. Why would he pursue any kind of sexual relationship with someone who was, after all, a boy, regardless of what he might be transformed into?

She started to consider solutions to the problem she had been set, but thoughts of this insane cross-gender transformation kept interfering. It was wrong. There were no two ways about it. Even assuming Adam was homosexual, that didn't mean he would be happier as a female.

Grimacing, she forced herself to focus on ways to attack Snake Mountain.

* * *

Teela woke up feeling very odd. There was a heavy weight across her legs and another person directly in front of her. She opened her eyes and saw Adam's face inches away from hers, his blond hair sticking out at crazy angles. Tilting her head, she could see that Cringer was stretched out across both their legs, and she smiled. It was like when they were really little and they'd fall asleep after some court function or other.

Only it wasn't. When they were little, they had been like brother and sister. Now she was looking into the face of the man she loved, the face of the man she was bound to for life. Reaching out tenderly, she brushed his hair smooth and gently stroked the skin of his cheek. If he were awake, she would never dare to do so, but his deep, even breathing told her that he was still most definitely asleep. She wondered how he would react if he knew she thought he was beautiful.

She smiled. Probably he'd blush, then he'd glare at her. It was true, though. His golden hair and fair skin . . . his eyes so blue. The sky was rarely so pure and perfect a blue. And she had a sense of him, of his personality, now, that corresponded with his outer appearance.

After having telepathy, she had gone to the library and pulled out some very old books that talked about how the power worked. The Sorceress had said it was a mistake, but Teela hadn't been so certain. She'd wanted to be prepared if it ever happened again, so that she would be able to identify what was her and what wasn't. She had learned some meditation techniques that dovetailed well with what her father had taught her, and had gotten to know the shape of her own mind pretty well.

While she had slept, things seemed to have settled down a bit in her head, because she could now identify the part of her mind that was linked to Adam, and what edges she was able to analyze told her that Adam was as the people thought of him. Kind, gentle, sweet, innocent . . . Guilt suffused her at the thought of all the awful things she'd said about him over the past few months. She touched his cheek again lightly and banished the thought. Now was not the time to wallow in guilt, not if he was able to get anything like the same sense of her that she had of him.

His eyelids twitched and then flicked open. Caught staring at him, she flushed. His eyes were still very sleepy, but he grinned. "I guess it's my turn," he said. "I was watching you while you slept yesterday."

"What did you see?" she asked lightly.

"Quite possibly the prettiest girl I know," he said. "Though you're much prettier when you're at home behind your face."

"At home behind . . ." She trailed off, wrinkling her forehead. "Are you still asleep?"

He chuckled. "When you're asleep, there's no life to your face," he said. "You look like a very pretty statue, but I like you better when you're awake and animated. Like right now, when you're looking at me as if you think I've lost my mind."

His words and the way he was looking at her made her breath catch, but she forced a casual air. "I think you may have," she said. "We'll have to get Dorgan to see if it's slipped down somewhere odd and needs to be fished out again."

He reached out a hand towards her face and then abruptly dropped it straight to the spot on the side of her ribs that was the most ticklish, grinning fiendishly. She let out a shriek and retaliated in kind. Cringer flew off the bed, letting forth an irritated growl. They rolled, giggling and squealing, and then an enormous bearded figure rose above them and tickled them both mercilessly for a few moments.

Then they broke apart, all of them shaking with great gasps of laughter. Teela dragged herself to her feet and, while the other two were still incapacitated, she went quickly into the bathing chamber. She pressed her ear to the door quickly and heard Adam grousing good-humoredly to his father.

Breakfast was a pleasant meal. Adam sat down next to her and began quizzing her on what she had been doing. She answered carefully, not wanting him to become upset, and at her earliest opportunity started telling him details about the personalities of those she was working with. This had the good effect of diverting Adam's attention away from _what_ they were studying, and of making him laugh.

As soon as breakfast was over, the king inveigled them all, including Dorgan, into a card game. They started with gin rummy, but soon shifted to poker.

She played better than she had the other night, but she had to admit that Adam's poker face had improved. Before all this had happened, it had been awhile since she'd played cards with him, or any game that involved bluffing. Of them all, however, Dorgan had the most impenetrable, inscrutable poker face. He just looked pleasantly interested, no matter what his cards were.

For betting tokens, they were using odd little octagonal bits of what seemed to be pot metal enameled in various colors and stamped with numbers to denote value. Before long, Dorgan and Adam both had sizable piles of them. The conversation remained very focused on the game, and Teela wondered if the king had planned that, if that was why he had been so set on their playing cards.

Her luck started to turn as she grew bolder and started picking up on some of Adam's tells. She had just won a large hand when her father and the queen returned.

Marlena had brought them letters from their witnesses. Teela unfolded hers right at the table, but Adam drew away to the window with his. Cringer sat in front of him and attempted to crawl onto his lap. This was very funny to watch because he wouldn't fit on the chair. He wound up on his hind legs on the floor and his forelegs up on Adam's lap, his chin resting on them. Adam scratched his head absently while reading his letters.

Teela scanned her letters quickly, seeking the salient information which was that both girls had agreed. That fact ascertained, she tucked them away to read in detail later.

She looked up to hear the queen saying, "Everyone is being very discreet and quite helpful. The court is bound to realize that something is being planned, but not what."

"Teela?" She looked up at the soft voice to see her father gazing down at her with clear evidence of concern. She smiled up at him and gave him a hug. He drew back to look somberly into her eyes. "Are you all right" he asked.

"I am," she said. "Really. Don't worry."

He seemed to examine her closely for a moment, then nodded as if satisfied.

"Wait till you hear Duncan's news, though," the queen said. "Duncan?"

Teela looked up at her father, who smiled sort of sadly. "Jeclarren appears not to have been quite so alone in the world as we, or in fact he, thought."

"How do you mean?" Adam asked, walking over. Cringer was right on his heels. She had begun to wonder if the great cat had picked up on something wrong with Adam that the rest of them were missing. It was impossible to ask a tiger, however. She resolved to corner Dorgan later and put the idea to him.

Her father looked over at Adam, and she could see the love and concern in his eyes. They had always acted like family, and now they would be family in truth. An alarming thought struck her abruptly and she glanced at the king and queen. Within two weeks, they would be her parents-in-law. She didn't know why that seemed so different to her, but it did.

"We were aware from things he had told others that Jeclarren had a man called Duros that he considered in the light of a father. We had thought, because it's what Jeclarren told people, that this Duros was dead. It turns out that he's not, and he's been looking for the boy for ten years. They were separated during the Unrest."

"Where is he now?" Randor asked.

"At the palace," the queen said. "I've given him rooms in the royal wing along with the others. With Teela gone, it seemed inappropriate to leave Romily in with Duncan, so I've moved her to a suite with Delira. They're putting together the wedding favors and doing a lot of giggling. Tailors are hard at work at clothing for the attendants, and for me and Duncan. They'll have to wait to start work on your clothing," she said, glancing at the king, Teela and Adam, "until you all come back."

"They have my measurements, Marlena," the king said.

"If they make clothes to those measurements right now, dear, you'll look like you're wearing a sack. You've lost weight. The tailor who measured me was quite cross with me for not keeping my figure."

Teela saw Adam edging up to lean against his father. Randor put an arm around his shoulders almost seeming not to notice. Cringer sat down practically on top of Adam's feet. Teela leaned up against her own father, enjoying the feeling of connection with him.

Then the queen started to babble happily about wedding preparations, and Teela gave her father a kiss on the cheek and went to sit down with her. They fell to talking about colors and flowers and Marlena's impressions of Delira and Romily. After awhile, Teela looked around and noticed that Adam, Dorgan, Randor and her father were on the other side of the room, clearly talking. Tilting her head, she turned back to the queen. "Is there something inherent in weddings that splits the genders into two groups?"

Marlena looked over at their menfolk and chuckled. "Sometimes I think so." She looked over again, as if to make sure nothing had changed. "So, Teela, how do you feel, really? This has been a big change, and if you're having any problems, it would be better to get them out into the open."

Teela smiled. "My father asked me the same thing. I'm fine, really."

"Do you feel any different?" she asked. Teela nodded, and the queen's eyes widened. She had clearly been expecting a different response. "How so?"

Taking in a deep breath, Teela let it out slowly. "I can feel him," she said.

"What?"

"I can feel him, where we're connected." The queen's stunned expression begged her to explain further. "I have a very good sense of where I start and end. After I had telepathy, I did some research, because I was afraid I might wind up with it again and I wanted to be prepared."

"I see."

"So I can sort of 'feel' him, who he is . . ." She looked over at Adam and sighed again. "If I hadn't loved him before, I don't know how I could avoid it now." She tore her eyes away from Adam, afraid that he might look up and wonder why she was staring at him. The queen took her hand and squeezed it, causing Teela to look up, surprised.

"Boys mature more slowly than girls," Marlena said confidentially. "And he's hardly in a state to know his own mind now. But if you need to talk, or to have a cry, just come and find me."

Teela smiled at her. "I'll remember," she said.

When dinner appeared on the table, the men got up from their far corner and came to sit down at the table. Teela reached out to squeeze her father's hand as he sat down, but he froze and stood up sharply. "I have to – I have to go."

"What is it?" Teela asked, startled. "Has something happened?"

"I don't know yet, but Mekanek's outside asking for me. I'd better –"

The king rose, too. "I'll come with you," he said. Adam's eyes widened in alarm and she reached over to take his hand, shifting so that she was sitting right next to him.

"He'll be back soon," she said. Glancing up at the king, she added, "Right?"

"Of course," he replied. He squeezed Adam's shoulder. "I'll be back within the half hour."

Adam nodded, but she could feel his hand trembling slightly. The queen looked up toward the ceiling, and dinner vanished. "We'll eat when you get back, Randor. Children, why don't we move to more comfortable seating?" Dorgan got up and walked over to sit in a chair.

Teela got Adam to stand up and come with her to the sofa as the king and her father left. She wondered what had come up that had brought Mekanek all they way to the castle to drag her father out. Resolutely, however, she turned her thoughts aside, to avoid worrying and possibly passing it on to Adam.

* * *

Duncan strode up to the open drawbridge with Randor close behind him. Mekanek was waiting just outside the castle, pacing uneasily. When he saw them, he stopped. "Your highness, Man-at-Arms, we have a bit of a situation."

"What is it?" Randor asked urgently.

Mekanek grimaced. "Three young men have been found dead in Eternos City, ranging in age from eighteen to twenty-three. They all died today."

Duncan felt as if the bottom had dropped out of his stomach and Randor stood like he was stunned. His eyes were wide and he looked utterly horrified. "Three?" he breathed. "And . . . it's her?"

Mekanek nodded grimly. "The constables had orders to report any deaths to the palace so we could evaluate them, and none of these three have a mark on them." His lips were tight. "They were all found naked in hostel rooms. We had Orko check them out, and he's hysterical now. We had to hand him over to Ram-Man to calm him down. It was her."

Randor turned suddenly and slammed his fist into the side of the gateway, which made both the others jump. "Sire, did you –" Duncan started, but the king shook his head, waving him away.

"What do we know?" he asked, rubbing the maltreated hand with the other. "Was she seen?"

Mekanek nodded. "Two of the men were seen with a woman when they took the hostel rooms. She's described as blond, slender and very young. I've got people canvassing the city now, trying to find anyone else who might have seen her."

"But –" Randor started, shaking his head. "How – why –"

"Illusion," said a voice from behind them, very somber. The Sorceress walked into view. "She must have cast an illusion on herself to avoid the searchers."

"Damn!" Randor growled. "Three men dead . . . and we're no nearer to locating her! What was she doing?"

"Gathering power," the Sorceress said. "She must be planning something serious to take so bold a step."

"I had better go back to the capital, sire," Duncan said. "To take charge of the investigation."

Randor nodded. "Make sure to find out if there are any missing boys. She may have taken new captives as well."

Duncan shuddered, but only said, "Right."

"I am not looking forward to telling Adam about this," Randor said, his eyes very grave.

From Mekanek's expression, he had already thought of that problem, but it hit Duncan in the gut. Nevertheless the boy had to know. If he was returning to the capital within a few days, he had to know what was going on.

"Randor, I think we'd better go," Duncan said, reaching out and gripping his friend's arm.

"Yes, go," the king said. "And be very careful, both of you."

Duncan nodded, and Mekanek saluted his king, and they left swiftly.

* * *

Randor turned after his men left to find that the Sorceress was gliding away. He walked after her and said, "Sorceress?"

She turned, looking back at him with wide eyes. "Yes, your highness?"

"Just how secure is this binding spell?" he asked. "Is it really strong enough to hold against her?"

Her eyes warmed with sympathy. "There is no known way to break past a binding spell. It has been attempted on many occasions, but never successfully."

"Even this sexual thing?" he asked, though the words caught in his throat.

The regal woman shook her head. "If she were to try that now, all she would get is the power created by the union itself. She would get no real benefit, for any normal man would give her more energy. She cannot even drain his life force, for that is integral with the power of being a well."

Randor closed his eyes. "But she can't know that, can she? She won't know that unless we find some way to tell her or she tests it herself."

"She may not understand it in any case," the Sorceress said. "It is clear that she is not aware of the binding ritual, or she would already have cast it. She may not even realize that he is a well, just that he has enormous energy that replenishes with amazing rapidity."

"It's enough," Randor growled. "It's more than enough that she knows that."

"I know, Randor," the Sorceress said. "I would give anything to have been able to prevent this."

"Time can't be turned back," he said. "And speaking of time, I had better go back up to Adam. He's expecting me to return quickly."

"Good night, King Randor."

"Good night, Sorceress."

He went quickly back to the suite to find that Adam was curled up next to Teela on the sofa. She had her arms around him and an oddly maternal look on her face. The grimness in his expression must have alerted them all to trouble, because Marlena leaned forward and Dorgan's eyes grew very intent. Adam sat up straight, pulling just slightly away from Teela.

As Randor crossed toward them, he could see Teela gripping Adam's hand very tightly, her other arm draped protectively around his shoulders, and it was clear that her touch no longer caused him distress. Their eyes, all four pairs, were fixed on his face as he sat heavily in the chair across from his son.

"Dad? What is it?" Adam asked.

"Three men have been found dead in the city," he said. "They had Orko check, and all three of them were killed by Daviona."

Adam's face went white with shock and his body went rigid. Teela was clearly caught between her own horrified reaction and wanting to soothe Adam, but the boy leaned ever so slightly toward his father. Randor leapt up, crossing to his side in two steps.

"Three men?" Adam said in a soft, desolate voice. "She killed three more men?" Randor put his arm around his son as the boy leaned close against him, his whole body trembling with tension. "Today?"

"Yes," Randor said. He looked up to meet Marlena's eyes. His queen looked as devastated as he felt. Dorgan's expression was completely blank. "They're between the ages of eighteen and twenty-three," he added.

"Why?" Teela demanded, her tone resonating with helpless fury. "Why is she doing this?"

Adam spoke tonelessly, still pressing himself close against Randor's side. "She has a plan. She must. She has something she needs lots of power for. Probably something to do with me."

Randor closed his eyes at the hopelessness implied by Adam's lack of intonation. "She can't succeed. We've seen to that."

"She can't drain me," Adam agreed, burrowing in even deeper. "So did Duncan go to take charge of things?"

"Yes," Randor said. "He'll probably be back in the morning to report what has been learned."

"So, does this mean we won't be going back when we'd planned?" Adam asked, and Randor could hear the disappointment in his tone.

"No, surely not," Marlena said. "We were only here to keep her from draining you at a distance. Now that the threat of that has been lifted . . ."

"And the final treatment," Dorgan said. "Orko will most certainly require the Sorceress' aid for that, but it's ready now."

Randor nodded. "We'll be heading home as planned. Orko will perform the final treatment tomorrow, we'll take a day for you to rest, and then return home the following day."

"That soon?" Adam exclaimed, gazing up at him. "I – I –" He shook his head. "And the wedding?"

"A week from tomorrow," his mother said. Teela made a little squeak of indrawn breath. "And the preparations will be just in time."

"A wedding will be nice," Adam said. "We can all do something with a positive goal." He reached out and pulled Teela close while remaining pressed against Randor.

"That's my thinking exactly," Marlena said, smiling. Her husband could see amusement lurking behind her eyes that she wouldn't share. She wouldn't want to embarrass the children. There was still space beside him on the sofa, on the other side from Adam, and he held out his hand for her. She came across and joined them.

Dorgan was watching them all with affectionate amusement.

* * *

Jeclarren cried until every last bit of energy had gone from his spirit. Hours, it felt like, but he wasn't sure. Time passed oddly here in this cell. Finally, he dried up and tried to pull back from Sanviro, to curl into a ball and try not to feel.

Sanviro wasn't having any of it, however. "You need to eat, Jeclarren." He shook his head, but Sanviro pulled him to his feet and walked him back to his chair. "Look, it's still good, even if it is cold. Sausages and biscuits."

The food made Jeclarren slightly nauseated. "I don't want food," he said. "I want to . . . I want . . . I don't know what I want."

"You want out of here," Sanviro said gently. "You want to come live in Yalin with me, and maybe we can find something approaching a normal life there."

"I can't have a normal life. I'm . . . I'm tainted."

Sanviro's eyes widened. "What? What about me?"

Jeclarren looked up at him blankly. "You aren't glad she's out there killing somebody, are you?"

"Are you? Really?" Sanviro asked.

"Not now, but there was a brief moment –"

Sanviro gripped his arm firmly. "You were glad it wasn't going to be one of us. You weren't glad that a stranger was going to die."

"I knew she was going out to kill someone, and I was glad, Sanviro. You don't understand. I was glad that, if she was going to kill someone, it was someone else."

"You're right," Sanviro said. "I don't understand. But my brother is unhappy, and that is enough for me. If you won't eat, I won't eat."

"Don't be ridiculous, Sanviro," Jeclarren said. "I'm feeling sick at my stomach. There's no reason for you not to eat because I feel ill."

"You're ill?" Sanviro asked in some alarm. "What's wrong? Do you –"

"No, I'm not ill. I feel sick to my stomach, but it's not an illness."

Sanviro cut off a small section of sausage. "You will feel better with food in your stomach. Here, just take a little piece. If your stomach reacts badly, you don't have to have any more."

Jeclarren looked at the food and turned his head away. "I don't want –" Opening his mouth had been a mistake. Sanviro popped the morsel into his mouth, giving him the choice of spitting it out or swallowing it.

He chewed and swallowed, and his stomach seemed to accept the food gratefully. "So, do you feel worse?" Sanviro asked.

Jeclarren shook his head and reached out for his silverware. With Sanviro refusing to eat unless he did, he didn't have much choice. They finished breakfast in silence and then Jeclarren sat, staring at the plate. Sanviro didn't understand . . . couldn't understand . . . maybe that meant that he was being stupid to feel this way. He couldn't help it, though.

Sanviro cleared away the dishes, and Jeclarren put his head down on his folded arms. His companion appeared right at his elbow and chivvied him to his feet. "We both need exercise. We're both used to physical activity, and we're not getting enough."

He followed Sanviro's instructions, unable to marshal himself sufficiently to refuse. When they were both sweating, Sanviro insisted that they take baths and then eat lunch. Afterwards, Jeclarren started to go towards the bed, to nap, but Sanviro pushed him into playing a game of chess with him, and basically kept him busy all day.

Sanviro was just clearing away the dishes from dinner when a woman's face appeared at the door. She was very pretty, with fine features and pale blond hair, and looked about twenty. He blinked, then started to his feet. "Who –"

She gave him a perplexed look, then grinned. "I forgot," she said. It was baffling. The facial expression looked utterly familiar, but the face and voice were not. Then the figure's features shifted slowly. Her hair thickened, darkened and curled, and her face took on the familiar, hated shape of Daviona's. He grimaced, and she laughed at his expression. "Did you think that rescue had come, somehow?" she asked.

He turned his back on her, unable to face her. "Did you kill someone?" Sanviro asked.

"Never you mind, sweet thing," she said, her voice almost a caress. "You need only concern yourself with what's asked of you."

Sanviro didn't seem satisfied. "Did you? Did you kill someone?"

She laughed and said, "Sleep well, my pets." Then Jeclarren could hear her footsteps moving away. He was shaking with rage, with blind, helpless fury. He wanted to kill something, someone, he wanted out!

He heard a grunt and turned to see that Sanviro had punched the wall very hard. He rushed across to his friend's side. "Don't do that!" he exclaimed as the other man cradled his fist. "She deserves to die, but there's no point in hurting yourself."

"We still don't know if she killed anyone," Sanviro said with a grimace.

"Yes, we do," Jeclarren said flatly.

"What do you mean?"

"She was in a very good mood, very energized," Jeclarren said. "She killed someone and drained his energy." He shuddered. "Or maybe I should say she drained someone and killed him."

"She's evil, and mad, and should be put down!" Sanviro growled.

"I know," Jeclarren said. "But there's nothing we can do." He looked back toward the window and wished that she would just die out there. Then he grimaced again. Now he was wishing for their deaths as well. _What's wrong with me?_


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

They sat, the four of them, on the sofa, offering one another comfort until dinner arrived again. Randor didn't feel particularly hungry, in fact he doubted that any of them did, but they all needed to eat. Dorgan emerged from his room where he'd retreated after awhile and said, "Time for dinner."

Randor shifted forward and pulled Adam to his feet. "Yes, let's eat." There wasn't much talking while they ate. Adam stayed close to him and seemed also to want Teela nearby. When they finished dinner, Adam was nearly falling asleep in his plate, but he refused to go to bed. Within minutes of their moving to the couch, though, he was fast asleep.

His face was untroubled and quiet, and Randor smiled down at him. "I guess I'd better put him to bed," he said quietly.

"I'll stay with him," Teela said, jumping up instantly and Randor raised an eyebrow.

"All right," he said. "Call me if you need me." He caught and held her eyes, wanting to impress upon her that she shouldn't try too hard to manage on her own. She seemed to already have the message that Adam's needs were more important than anything else, however, for she met his eyes with out any discomposure whatsoever.

Teela disappeared into the bathing chamber while he removed Adam's clothing. Marlena had come in with him and she helped him get the boy into his nightshirt. She kissed him, then went out again as Randor tucked his son into bed very tenderly. Cringer jumped up on the bed and arranged himself at Adam's feet. Teela emerged a moment later clad in her pajamas. She climbed in next to Adam and picked up a book. Instantly, Adam shifted so that his head was against her leg. Randor smiled at the pair of them even though he was quaking inside. His son was too young, Teela was too young, to have this sort of a relationship forced on them.

Teela had bound her hair into a soft braid for bed and he reached out to tug the end of it. "Good night. I'll be in the sitting room if you need me."

"Good night, Uncle Randor," she said.

He went back out into the sitting room to find Marlena and Dorgan talking quietly. He heard the edges of their conversation, though, and was amused. She was demanding that he consent to be fitted for new formal garments for the wedding. "I have a very suitable outfit already," he said. "I don't need anything new."

Marlena looked very frustrated. "But Dorgan, your wife is getting something new, and it would be lovely if the two of you matched. This is a royal wedding, Dorgan, the first real one we've ever had in Eternia since the ancient line of kings died out."

"I seem to recall a wedding between the two of you," the healer said, gesturing towards Randor. They both looked up at him, Dorgan with the clear belief that any man would sympathize with another's desire for simplicity in clothing, Marlena with the clear expectation that he would support her in her quest to have the Eternian chief healer clad in sartorial splendor for their son's wedding.

He raised his hands. "I have no opinion on this subject. You two will have to hash it out on your own."

Marlena narrowed her eyes briefly, but then laughed. "Oh, don't worry, we will. And if I don't get what I want myself, I have a feeling Alysa will help me."

Dorgan's expression grew irate. "Now that's not fair, getting a man's wife to conspire with you against him."

"I'm not conspiring," Marlena said, laughing again. "I'm simply determined to have everyone look their best at Adam's wedding. It will be such a small affair that I'd like it to be as splendid as possible. Something that those who attend it will remember as a grand event, rather than a hurried affair."

Randor tilted his head and sat down next to her, taking her hand. "Sweetheart, are you thinking back with disappointment on our own wedding?"

"No, of course not!" Marlena exclaimed, turning to him, but he could see in her eyes that she was. Their wedding had been hurried, and they hadn't had either time or money to create a beautiful event. Randor had been king for less than six months, there was no capital as of yet, and there were more than a few among the populace, noble and common alike, who weren't sure they wanted a king in place of the Council of Elders. A marriage was essential, to provide heirs and a sense that Randor was taking his duties as king seriously. Further, a married man offers an impression of stability and permanence that a bachelor does not.

Still, perhaps he should have found a way to make the occasion more magnificent.

"Randor," she said, catching his face between her hands. "I am not upset about our wedding. It was what it had to be at the time, and I love you, which is all that really matters. But there are several reasons why Adam's wedding can't be like ours was." He nodded expectantly and she went on. "For one, we are no longer living in the middle of an army camp. For another, this will look less like a dire emergency if we don't do a bare bones wedding. People are already going to think that we have concerns regarding whether Adam will survive the year and that's why we're marrying them so quickly, we don't need to add to that by seeming less than concerned about appearances."

"True enough," Randor said. "Though I don't think we're going to have a chance of persuading people that this isn't a dire emergency." He shrugged unhappily "It is, but since we can't tell them what the emergency actually is, they're bound to fill in the details for themselves."

"Nevertheless, we need to put the best face possible on it," Marlena said firmly. "Further, Teela and Adam are going to look back on this day from fifty years in the future, and they should know that we did everything we could to make things as perfect as possible."

Randor nodded his agreement. "I agree, my dear."

"And that's why I want to have everyone turned out in the best possible garments we can provide."

Dorgan sighed, and Randor recognized the sound. It was the 'I've just lost the argument, but I don't have to like it' sigh that all men learn after being married for awhile. "Very well, your highness. When you put it like that, I don't have a leg to stand on."

Marlena smiled sweetly at him, ever gracious in victory. "Thank you, Dorgan."

Randor cleared his throat. "Now, I've got a question, before we get back onto wedding issues."

"What's that?" Marlena asked.

Randor bit his lip, considering how best to phrase it. "Dorgan, after this drug is out of Adam's system, is that going to affect the dependency he's been showing towards me?"

Dorgan's face went abruptly from amused resignation to concern. "No," he said. "I very much doubt there will be any immediate effect. A large part of what the drug did was open the door to allow the relationship to exist. It also made him very vulnerable to changes in it, and that will lessen as time goes by, but the relationship is now set firmly in his psyche."

"Are you saying that Adam will always be this dependent on his father?" Marlena asked.

"No, gradually he should become more independent again, but I suspect he will always seek out Randor in times of stress."

Marlena nodded pensively and Randor glanced over at the doorway. "I won't be around forever," he said. "Will that also gradually lessen?"

"To some degree, but this is pretty powerful stuff. Not just the drug, but the emotions behind it." Dorgan smiled sadly at the pair of them. "Let me put it this way, she gave Adam a drug that would theoretically have made him vulnerable to her – would have enabled her to create in him a dependence on her, a woman he detested and was frightened of. The first person he saw under that influence was his father, a man he loves, trusts and admires. Thus the bond is quite probably considerably stronger than anything she could have created."

"What does that mean?" Marlena asked.

"We'll know better as time goes by," Dorgan said. "We're going to have to find someone that Adam can talk to about his experiences, someone to help him get past this incredible trauma. We'll be able to assess the extent of his dependence as that therapy goes forward."

"Right," Randor said. "He keeps saying that he feels as if Daviona has taken, in addition to all the harm she has done, huge chunks of time out of his life, all the time it's going to take him to recover."

"Isn't that the truth," Dorgan said bitterly. "And we still haven't worked out how to deactivate that damned spell."

"Well, I'm going to bed," Marlena said quietly. "Tomorrow may be a busy day."

Randor stood up with her, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Good night, Dorgan," he said.

Dorgan nodded absently, rising as well and going off into his bedroom. Randor and Marlena went into the other bedroom, where Teela was now sleeping with her head pillowed on Adam's shoulder. Cringer was lying on both their feet, and Randor smiled.

"They're very sweet, aren't they?" he asked.

Marlena nodded, sighing, as she pulled away to go over and change into her nightclothes. Randor went into the bathing chamber to change as well, thinking that he didn't want Teela to see him changing if she awoke. When he emerged, Marlena was lying on the empty bed, alone and looking unhappy. He walked around and crawled in behind her, putting his arms around her waist. "I love you."

She turned her head. "I thought you'd – with Adam – I –"

"We're here, in reach, and he's got both Teela and Cringer. He'll be fine, my love."

Marlena turned in his arms. "I don't begrudge either of you the attention you're getting from each other, but –"

He kissed her lightly on the lips, interrupting her. "But you feel left out. That's perfectly understandable."

"I love you, Randor."

He cuddled her close and they fell asleep.

* * *

Duncan walked out of the third crime scene, sickened by what he had seen. While Mekanek had come to fetch him, more information had been discovered about the victims. She had not done so good a job today at finding young men who had no connections. The eldest of the three had a wife who was utterly devastated to find that her husband had been killed by a woman while he was in bed with her.

Stratos had explained to her that the woman was a wizardess and that she had undoubtedly ensorceled him, but she had a small child and another on the way, which meant that they were going to have to find some funds to help support her. The youngest man was the fourth of five brothers, and all four of the remaining boys were livid. The other man, a tinker of twenty-one, seemed to be alone in the world, but then so had Jeclarren and that had proven false.

Duncan shook his head. "What else do we know yet?" he asked.

"Not much," Buzz Off said. "I followed her scent out to the edge of the city. There it simply vanished. When Orko was better, he came out to check with me and there was evidence of some sort of portal."

"We have had people out to question shopowners and the like," Stratos said. "But most shops are closed at this hour, so we have had little luck."

"We'll learn more tomorrow," Duncan said. "How is Orko?"

"He returned to the palace with Ram-Man," Buzz Off said. "He was very shaken by the crime sites. I don't know what it was he saw, and I'm pretty sure that I don't want to."

"Probably not," Duncan said. He looked around at his team. "I think we'd better meet in the morning. There's not much more we can do tonight but deliver the bodies to the coroner." He looked back over his shoulder at the doorway into the room that contained the body of the tinker. There was one common denominator among the men she had chosen today. They were all extremely handsome fellows, very physically fit and trim.

Daviona clearly had a thing about physical beauty.

"The first body was discovered by the innkeeper's twelve-year-old daughter who went into the wrong room to deliver towels," Man-E-Faces said. "The news has been spreading like wildfire, for the child ran down to the taproom and gabbled it out. The second body was found, in fact, because the keeper of another inn got curious based on the story that was being passed in the streets and went upstairs to check on his customers."

"Hellfire," Duncan muttered.

Stratos put a hand on his arm and guided him away from the others a bit. "Man-at-Arms, I believe that we can manage the rest of what can be done tonight on our own. Perhaps you should get back to the palace."

"Right. Jenkins will need instructions. I'll see you all in the morning."

From Stratos' expression, that hadn't been what he'd had in mind, but Duncan just waved and started back towards his wind raider. As he passed through the dark streets to where he had left his vehicle, he tried not to think about those handsome young men meeting an apparently innocent young woman . . . and winding up dead.

He hated to think of Adam hearing this news. Duncan was terribly afraid that the boy would blame himself because they all knew what Daviona was seeking power for. Adam. Another attempt to secure Adam for herself.

He turned a corner into an alley that provided a shortcut from one street to the next. The night was unusually quiet, but the sounds of the city were there, just muted. No doubt it was an aftereffect of the horrors of the day. Just as he reached the halfway point of the alley, a wall of glowing lavender mist sprang up before him, rising to arc over the top of him.

Halting sharply, he stared up at the unexpected obstacle, then turned around in time to see a hand pull aside the darkness as one might a curtain, and Evil-Lyn stepped out into view.

His mouth went dry as he saw the lavender mist hit the ground four feet behind her, sealing them in. There were no windows in the walls that faced the alley, so no one would see anything unless they happened past either end of the alley. He raised his arm to activate his hand cannon, but nothing happened. He froze in shock.

Evil-Lyn let out a sardonic chuckle. "So eager to attack me, are you Duncan?" she asked.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, gesturing around at the glowing bubble. "What is this thing?"

"A spell I discovered only today," she said, smiling. "It's invisible from the outside and renders us invisible as well, thus reducing the chances that either a doomseeker or a wandering 'master' will catch sight of us, so we shouldn't be interrupted." He twitched his wrist again, almost reflexively, trying to activate his hand cannon again, but, again, nothing happened. She laughed. "And it disables technology as well," she added. "Calm yourself, Duncan, I merely want to talk."

He crossed his arms, glaring irritably at her. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"Such a friendly fellow you are," she said, her eyes narrowing. "I come with important news regarding Skeletor's plans. Do I take it you're not interested?" She raised a hand as if to dismiss her forcefield.

He grimaced. "Oddly, my first thought wasn't that you'd trapped me here for my benefit."

"Not your benefit, the boy's benefit," she said, lowering her hand and giving him a very level look. "Skeletor has discovered that he can bind a well to himself, and he's determined to obtain Adam."

Duncan gulped and then let out a sigh of relief, which seemed to surprise her. If Teela hadn't already figured this out, if they hadn't . . . the panic he would be feeling now . . .

"Don't you understand me?" Evil-Lyn demanded, glaring at him. "As I understand the spell, it creates a psychic link between the pair, something I am quite certain you don't want happening to your young prince."

"I do understand you," he said.

"You don't seem very worried," she replied, pursing her lips speculatively.

"Skeletor's not the only one capable of doing a bit of research," Duncan said, grinning at her startled expression. "What I don't understand is why you're telling me this. If Skeletor knew –"

"I'd be in deep trouble, but I've discovered that I have something of a conscience where certain things are concerned." She looked very disgruntled. "He still has every intention of acquiring Adam to use for his own ends, and –"

"If he can perform the binding, presumably," Duncan interrupted. "And there's no way he can do that at this point."

She shook her head. "The only way to prevent it is to . . ." She slowed, gazing at his expression. "You've already done it," she said with dawning realization. "He's already bound to someone else."

Duncan gave her a tight grin. "I can neither confirm nor deny the truth of that –"

"You fool! That will only help if Skeletor knows it!" she snapped. "If he still believes Adam to be up for the taking, he will make the attempt, and you may find yourselves trying to rescue a princess rather than a prince."

Duncan shook his head. "That's ludicrous. The binding means that sexual contact is –"

"Not required," she finished for him. "I know that, you know that and I am confident that Skeletor knows that. But he seems enamored of the idea." She shook her head. "There are things that are just wrong."

"But why?"

She scowled. "I think he's pleased by the thought of Randor's reaction to discovering that his son's a daughter, and He-Man's reaction to discovering that his lover has become a woman."

It took a moment. His mind was still filled with the image of how Randor might react confronted by a female Adam when the meaning of her second comment sank in. "Lover?" he exclaimed, his voice breaking in his shock. "You think Adam and He-Man are lovers?"

She tilted her head. "Are you certain they're not?" she asked, her eyes on his face.

"Dead certain," he said, a split second before he realized that she had lured him into making a solid statement of fact.

"So," she said, her voice a low, purring drawl, "either you're in denial or you have reason to believe otherwise."

He glared at her. "All of that is entirely beside the point!"

"Perhaps so, but it is another thing that Skeletor is convinced of, another idea that motivates him."

"Where does he get these ideas?" Duncan asked incredulously.

She shruggled, looking almost contemptuous of the Lord of Snake Mountain. "Not from me. I have a rational mind, thank you. Still, you're right, it's beside the point." He raised his eyebrows to suggest she come to the point. "Somehow, you have to let Skeletor know that he is already bound so that he knows it's useless to seize him."

Duncan rolled his eyes. "Sure, I'll just send him a note. Got some paper?" She made a rude noise at him and he shrugged. "Look, he's not going to believe anything we say. What do you suggest?"

"That you not be so fatuous," she snapped. "So the young prince's power is bound, is it? What, has the Sorceress seized on an opportunity to increase her power?"

Duncan glared at her. "I'm not giving you any information, Evil-Lyn. I appreciate your sharing Skeletor's plans with me, but that doesn't mean it's going to be mutual."

She crossed her arms, an ill humor settling over her features. "What if I said I wanted to share more with you?"

His eyebrows rose at this alarming suggestion. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't get any ideas, Duncan," she retorted, her eyes narrowing to slits. "What is it about men? Do they think everything is about sex?" He blinked, uncertain why she was ranting. "You're not my type, Duncan."

"No, you like them fleshless." The look she turned on him made him ashamed of himself. Having Evil-Lyn look at him like he was a particularly nasty slug that had just crawled out from under a rock was humbling. "Sorry, that was crass."

"Yes, it was," she drawled, her voice heavy with disdain. "You are very self-righteous, Duncan, and it gets old."

"It gets old?" he repeated. "How ludicrous can you get?"

"This all started as a political squabble between Keldor and the Elders, you know," she said, her eyes reflecting her thoughts. "And regardless of what you and stuffybeard think, there were some valid points on Keldor's side."

"And a lot of greed."

"That too," she admitted. "But that doesn't render the points invalid."

He shrugged. "I'm not sure what yours is," he said.

She cocked a hip aggressively and met his eyes. "My point is that twenty years ago there was a clear cut dispute with recognizable arguments, counter-arguments and motivations on both sides." Shaking her head, she shrugged. "Things aren't so simple now."

"Not that they were really simple then, but no, they have grown more complex."

"This doesn't come easily to me, Duncan," she said after a long pause. "But Keldor is dead. I have come to believe that he killed himself on that stair in the Hall of Wisdom with the acid he threw at Randor. In my desperation to save him, I created a monster in whom I can see less and less of the man I served twenty years ago."

Duncan stared at her in astonishment. "Are you saying –"

Evil-Lyn's expression was set in lines of pain. What color she had in her complexion had drained away, leaving her looking wan and startlingly young. "Never in Keldor's wildest flights of fancy would he have, first, suggested that I rape a sixteen-year-old boy to gain his power." Duncan stared at her, vaguely stunned by this frank admission. "Nor would he have decided to transform the boy so he could do it himself."

"You're sure of that?" Duncan asked.

Her eyes flashed with anger. "I knew him very well. He would never have considered such a course, particularly not when, as is the case now, he had another alternative for gaining the power." She shook her head. "Even assuming that he was so desperate for power that he would find it necessary to do so, discovering that sexual means weren't necessary would have decided him against it."

"You don't want the power Adam represents?" Duncan asked cautiously.

She grimaced. "I won't deny that the amount of power available from that boy was tempting when first I understood what the binding ritual would do, but the notion of creating an unwilling psychic bond is repugnant to me." She shuddered. "I'm a telepath, and while I have used the ability to lure the unwary into folly, I have never forced rapport and never will. It's a form of mental rape, and I won't be party to rape."

"You already have been," Duncan said, gazing at her unblinkingly.

"I beg your pardon?" she growled, her back straightening. "I never –"

"You helped prepare Adam for that auction," he said, his words full of bitter acrimony. "You helped to sell him to that bitch. You are party to everything that happened to him at her hands." Evil-Lyn took a step back, looking utterly stunned. He followed up his advantage. "She wasn't the only one with rape on her mind, you know. At least one of the men planned to use him that way first and then kill him."

She was shaking her head, clearly horrified. "I didn't . . . I wouldn't . . ."

"You did," he said, his voice flat. "Not thinking it through doesn't make you less culpable. In fact, given this attitude you're revealing now, I rather think it makes you more culpable."

She seemed to be gazing at some unpleasant inner vista, and he wondered what she was thinking. He expected her to leave, to flee his condemnation, but to his surprise she straightened after several moments. "You're right," she said levelly, "it does." With that admission, and the fact that it genuinely seemed to come from the heart, she gained some grudging respect from him. "Which only strengthens my resolve. I don't believe that was in Skeletor's mind when he planned the auction." Duncan snorted derisively, and her eyes gleamed with ire. Her voice grew louder. "But I do know how he and all the other idiots have reacted since then. One of the chief reasons Skeletor gives for thinking Adam to be homosexual is that he reacted so negatively to Daviona's treatment of him."

Duncan raised an eyebrow. "Your resolve to do what?" he asked.

She straightened and met his gaze levelly. "Offer my services to you."

He stared at her incredulously for a moment. "You want to what?"

"The oaths I swore to Keldor are void with his death," she said, her chin rising. "And I certainly never swore to help him alter an innocent child's gender to make raping him more palatable."

Duncan didn't know what to think, though that last statement felt like a punch in the gut. "What do you want to do for us?"

"Well, for the moment I could continue to spy within Snake Mountain, and bring you information."

He really had no idea what to say. He didn't know how Randor would react. He narrowed his eyes. "How much of what Raon told you did you pass on to Skeletor?"

Her eyes widened slightly, but she sighed, seeming almost abashed. "Too much, I'm afraid. That's what's led to this fascination. He's been studying for weeks, trying to find some way to turn it to his advantage."

Hence the dreams Teela'd had, Duncan thought with some surprise. He grimaced. "Quite frankly, I don't know how Randor will react to this," he said. "He'll want to know why now – why you didn't break away from Skeletor sooner."

"It's taken me this long to accept that Keldor is truly gone," she replied. "For a time I hoped that he would eventually recover his wits. There have been occasional moments since . . ." She shook her head. "But it's clear now that he's never coming back. I'm not sure how much of his spirit remains, but something else came out of Despondos to take control."

"Despondos?" he repeated, horror-struck. "What in Eternia does Despondos have to do with this?"

She blanched and looked down at the ground. "I was desperate," she said. "He was dying and I knew there was a way to save him." Her violet eyes rose to his with appalling candor. "I would have done anything for him."

Duncan felt very much out of his depth. He didn't know what to say, how to respond. The silence that followed her heartfelt . . . he didn't know what to call it. It was neither a plea nor a defense. But the silence dragged on for several minutes. Finally he cleared his throat. "I will take this to Randor," he said. "But we should set up a time to meet."

She shook her head. "I don't want Stuffybeard involved with this," she said.

Duncan pursed his lips. "He's my liege lord, I can't keep something of this magnitude from him."

"Do you tell him everything?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. He controlled his reaction rigidly, not letting anything show. She couldn't know how closely that question struck home. The secret of He-Man would kill Randor if he ever found out. Unaware of the turmoil she had caused in Duncan's heart, she went on. "You are of a far more practical bent than he is. Surely there are decisions that you make that aren't for his ears."

"Even if there were, this couldn't be one of them," Duncan said. "You have been on the other side too long."

"Fine," she said with ill grace. "I accept your reasoning."

"So I will put this to Randor."

She glowered. "You might tell Stuffybeard that if he declines to have my information from Snake Mountain, he will not have another opportunity."

"What do you mean?" Duncan asked suspiciously.

"If I can be of no use to you there, I will leave, at which point Skeletor will be less than pleased with me, and will not likely welcome me again, certainly not on the same terms."

He blinked at her in stupefaction. "Where would you go?" he asked.

"I hardly think that's any of your business," she said archly. "But suffice to say, anyone on Skeletor's crew with any sense has a fall back position."

"What do you hope to gain from helping us?" Duncan asked.

She raised her eyebrow. "What do you think?" she replied. "A full pardon."

He nodded, unsurprised. "I will put it to Randor in the morning."

"Where can I meet you to get news, and when? You have been dashing about like a madman today."

He sighed. It had been a full day, of that there was no doubt. Tomorrow would not be less full. "I don't know," he replied. "When can you get away?"

"You can safely trust that I will find a way whenever you are available."

"I will endeavor to be in this spot tomorrow night at ten, but I can't guarantee it."

She nodded. "If you can't, then try for the next night."

"Agreed."

"Now I must go. I will be missed." He watched in silence as she drew a bit of shadow around herself. As soon as she was out of sight, the magical shield dissipated. Duncan stayed where he was for a moment, pondering what he had learned.

He went to the palace and spoke to Jenkins, then returned to Grayskull. The drawbridge opened for him and the light led him to the suite where he lay down on the sofa in the central room. There he lay sleepless for some hours, wishing for simpler times.

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_Author's note: Sorry it's been so long since my last update. I misplaced the edits I'd done on paper, and that stressed me out. Please enjoy, and I will try to keep up a little more consistently again._


	50. Chapter 50

_Wow . . . Chapter 50. Seems like a moment for celebration. Woot! Imaginary party streamers. Enjoy -- there's quite a lot left to go. Oh, and don't forget to tell me what you think. Feedback is love, and love makes me write more._

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**Chapter 50**

Deep in the night, Adam woke up in an exceedingly odd position. He was lying at an angle on the bed, one of his arms across Teela's shoulders, but Cringer was lying between them from about rib-level on down. It seemed as if, during the night, the cat had wormed his way between them, forcing them apart.

The prince rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. Then he realized abruptly that there was someone missing from the bed and sat up. The light of the moons illuminated the room dimly. His mother and father lay on the other bed, cuddled up close together.

He got up and went to the privy, then looked at both beds thoughtfully when he came back out. Crawling onto the one that held his parents, he took a note out of Cringer's book and slid in between them, very gently. Still sleeping, they made room for him and he settled with his father on one side and his mother on the other. Feeling very safe, he fell asleep.

* * *

Randor awoke with the sun shining in his eyes. He had not slept in this part of the room before, and he had not anticipated the sun coming in the window at quite that angle. He turned his head, blinking blearily and saw Adam's blond hair spread across the pillow beside him. Marlena was curled up beyond their son. He disengaged himself from the blankets with care and looked over at the other bed where Teela was curled up with Cringer.

He slipped out of the bed and went to the privy. When he emerged, the others were all still asleep. He walked across to the sitting room door and opened it. Dorgan wasn't out there, but Duncan sat on the sofa, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. Randor shut the door behind him quietly and crossed to his friend. Putting a hand on his shoulder, he said, "What news, Duncan?"

Heaving a great sigh, the man-at-arms looked up. "There are three men dead at Daviona's hand, and we are no nearer to finding her."

Randor grimaced and sat down opposite his friend. "So no change from last night?"

"No, there's a remarkable change, actually," Duncan said. "But I'm not sure what to make of it, I doubt you'll fare any better."

"What are you talking about?"

"Evil-Lyn came and found me again last night, after I'd investigated the deaths."

Randor half rose in alarm. "Did she harm you? Cast any spells on you?"

Duncan shook his head. "No, nothing of the kind. She was warning me again. Apparently Skeletor has discovered that binding spell, so it's a good thing we acted when we did."

"By the Elders," Randor murmured.

"But that's not all. She . . ." He shook his head. "I believe she was in love with Keldor, sire. I thought so twenty years ago, and I still do."

"Was in love?" Randor repeated. "You mean you don't think she is any longer?"

"No, I think she still loves Keldor . . . but she informed me last night that Keldor is dead, and has been since that acid hit him during our final battle."

Randor stared at him, then shook his head. "I beg to differ. I have scars to prove it."

"That was not Keldor, that was Skeletor."

"I fail to see the difference."

Duncan took a deep breath. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days. "Apparently Evil-Lyn was the one who performed the spell that kept him alive."

Randor nodded slowly, not at all sure where this was leading. "I always assumed that was the case."

"Well, I gather she undertook the spell she chose out of desperation, and wasn't really completely aware of what the results would be. It's taken her this long to fully accept that she didn't bring Keldor back but put something else in his place."

"You speak as if you believe her," Randor said pensively. Duncan flushed. "Do you?"

"She was persuasive," he said. "And she . . ." He bit his lip. "She called on the power of Despondos to save him."

"Despondos?!" Randor exclaimed, appalled. "Was she utterly mad?"

"She was desperate, she said," Duncan replied. "And she would have done anything for him. Those were her words."

Randor leaned back in his chair. "That's astonishing," he said. "Why did she share all this with you? It seems uncharacteristic."

Duncan nodded. "She has . . . she's become disaffected. Apparently Skeletor asked her to . . ." He grimaced and looked at the shut door. "He asked her to rape Adam."

Randor exclaimed profanely and glanced at the door himself to make sure it was closed. "I don't understand."

"She told me she would not be party to rape. You should have seen her face when I told her that she already had been. Evidently she hadn't thought through the consequences of the auction, but when she had, she . . ." He shook his head. "She accepted her culpability. And she seems very disturbed by the notion of Skeletor transforming Adam into a girl."

"But he wouldn't need to," Randor said. "Not with the binding ritual."

"She said he didn't seem to care, that he liked the idea of disturbing you." He edited out the remarks about He-Man as irrelevant. Randor scowled. "She also said that none of the oaths she took to Keldor required her 'to help him alter an innocent child's gender to make raping him more palatable.'"

The words were powerful as Duncan had clearly known they would be. "So what was the point of all this communication?"

"She wants to offer her services as a spy within Snake Mountain," Duncan replied. "In return for a full pardon."

"You must be joking!" Randor exclaimed. "After all that she's done, after what she did to Raon – did she confess that deed?"

Duncan nodded. "She also said she thought she'd told Skeletor too much of what Raon told her, and that's what caused his present interest in Adam."

"Yet she expects me to pardon her in return for . . . what, a few paltry intelligences?"

Duncan grimaced, seeming ill at ease. "I know, sire, but . . . it might not be paltry, and her help could be invaluable."

"How so?" Randor asked. "And why are you pleading her case?"

"I'm not," Duncan replied, sitting a little straighter. "I'm doing my job by pointing out the possible benefits of such an arrangement."

"Did she say anything else?"

"Yes, sire. She said that if you don't take her up on it, she will leave Skeletor, which will effectively remove any chance we have of gaining intelligence in that manner."

This startled Randor so much that he didn't know what to say. He blinked for a few seconds, then said, "Do you think she's serious?"

"I do, sire," Duncan said. "When she acknowledged that she had a part in the blame for what happened to Adam with Daviona, she added that she knew Skeletor felt no such blame, which only stiffened her resolve to break away from him."

Randor shook his head. "I do not understand this. Why now? Why at this time?"

"I don't know, sire." Duncan appeared to be casting around for something more to say. "I think she also finds the idea of the binding spell done on an unwilling well disturbing in the extreme. As a telepath, I think it comes home more fully to her than it might to us."

This was an idea that Randor hadn't considered. As a telepath she might indeed have a more intense reaction. "What does she offer in earnest of her intentions?" he asked.

"Well, she has been telling us of Skeletor's desire for Adam, his plans . . ."

"No details of significance," Randor replied. "Nothing that could help us stop him."

Duncan blinked. "Then shall I ask her tomorrow night what she offers us right now?"

"Yes." Then the meaning of Duncan's words sank in. "Have you got an arranged meeting place and time?" he asked.

"Yes, sire," he said.

"Has it occurred to you that it might be a trap?"

"Of course," Duncan replied. "I –"

The door opened and a yawning Adam emerged. "Dad, there you are," he said, sounding less frantic than he had in the past, but Randor couldn't help wondering how he would have reacted if he hadn't found him. He walked over and sat down on the arm of the chair. "Did the sun wake you?"

Randor put an arm around his son's waist. "Yes, actually. Is your mother still asleep."

"She's got her face buried in a pillow," Adam said. "And Teela is dead to the world." He looked over at Duncan, and his eyes widened. "You look awful. How bad was it last night?"

"Bad enough," Man-at-Arms replied, his face grim. Randor looked up at Adam with concern, but he was calmer than he'd expected. "And we're no closer to finding her, Adam, I'm sorry."

Adam looked disappointed, but he sighed philosophically. "She's smart, and she's been successful in avoiding notice for more than four hundred years. We shouldn't be surprised that she's a little hard to locate."

"No, I suppose not, my prince," Duncan said. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Better than I have in awhile," Adam replied, sounding somewhat startled. "We're doing that treatment today, and I still have no idea what it entails, but . . ." He shook his head. "Teela . . . I thought for so long that she hated me, but . . ." He trailed off and Randor wondered just what it was he was getting from the girl.

Whatever it was, he was all for it if it made Adam feel this much better.

"I wonder if she's sleeping late," Adam said suddenly, looking sort of vaguely upwards.

"Who?" Duncan asked in the midst of a huge yawn.

"I'd rather not say, it might wake her," Adam replied with a slight grin.

Duncan closed his mouth rather abruptly and blinked. "Oh, of course," he said. "I suppose anything is possible."

"I was just wondering about breakfast," Adam added, rising. "But I think there's some fruit on the table still."

Randor was watching his adolescent son with amused fondness as he searched out whatever food might be available in the sitting room when the shields came up around the castle. Duncan and he leapt to their feet instantly, but Adam was closer to the windows. He ran towards the openings and Randor followed after, pulling him away from any possible threat.

"Father?!" Adam exclaimed, clearly objecting to Randor's protective gesture.

"Do you see anything, Duncan?"

"I don't."

The shields went down and Randor felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Why had the shields come up? Why had they gone down? He was afraid to call on the Sorceress for fear of distracting her from some protective effort.

Adam was trying to pull away from Randor's restraining arm. "Father, I don't see any sign of –"

"_There is no threat,"_ the Sorceress said. _"It was Orko."_

Dorgan came out of his room at a rapid pace and went out the door. Adam had relaxed his struggles, now he looked up and said, "What's wrong, Sorceress?" he asked.

There was a brief pause during which Marlena and Teela came out of the bedroom. Cringer ran to the door and scratched. The Sorceress spoke again. _"He attempted to enter the castle without permission. Unfortunately, the frequent attacks of late have raised the castle's defenses to a higher than usual level, and the shields knocked him senseless."_

"Is he all right?" Adam asked worriedly.

"_I believe he is,"_ the Sorceress said, _"but I have sent Dorgan down to check."_

"I should go," Adam said. "I should check on him."

"You should stay here," Marlena said, crossing to him. "Dorgan will bring him here."

Adam assented unhappily, and when breakfast appeared a moment later, he looked at it without interest. Teela walked across to his side. "Come eat, Adam. Orko will be fine."

He smiled at her and put an arm around her shoulders. "I don't think I'll be able to eat until I know that for certain," he said softly.

She threaded her arm around his waist and they waited. Marlena put her arm around Randor's waist, and he mirrored Adam's position with a smile for his wife. She was watching their son. "He's so young, and so is she," she said quietly, "but they do seem right together in some indefinable way."

"Yes, they do," he replied. "I just wish things could happen between them at a more natural pace."

"I know, so do I."

A moment later, Orko came whizzing into the room. "Sorry, I didn't mean to alarm everybody," he exclaimed. Dorgan followed him looking saturnine.

"You're okay," Adam said, grinning his relief.

Orko nodded. "I am, and I'm ready for your treatment as soon as the Sorceress can get here." Randor squeezed Marlena's shoulders. The final treatment. She responded in kind.

As Adam and Orko began to talk comfortably, Randor glanced at Duncan and recalled their earlier conversation. He would as soon have Marlena's opinion on the subject, but he didn't want it discussed in front of Adam. After several seconds, Duncan seemed to feel his eyes on him and turned. He caught Randor's mood and walked toward him.

Randor squeezed Marlena's shoulders again and looked down. She gazed up into his eyes. "Marlena," he said quietly. "Duncan has some news I think he should share with you privately."

She nodded, eyes wide. "Of course, Randor," she said softly. They went into the bed chamber and Randor walked towards the children and Orko.

"I couldn't figure out what was going on, so I just tried to go in through a window. I must have slid down the slope of the shield because Dorgan found me at the side of the abyss."

"Orko . . ." Adam shook his head.

"I know, I shouldn't be so impulsive," the little Trollan said. "But I was so excited, and it's such a pleasure to be doing something that helps someone."

"You've been helping me for weeks," Adam exclaimed. "From what I've been told and what little I've seen, you've been giving of yourself unstintingly."

"Yes, but . . ." He was twisting his hem in his hands. "There are things that have happened that make me feel awful, and I wanted to get to helping you as soon as I could to get that out of my mind."

Randor began to see what a toll the murders he was witnessing were taking on poor Orko. Anger fueled his resolve yet again to see that Daviona never harmed anyone else.

Adam was patting Orko's shoulder sympathetically. The Trollan suddenly brightened. "And I wanted to wish you two congratulations and many happy years together."

Both of them flushed bright red at this and Adam stammered out his thanks. Orko beamed at them, and there was a knocking on the sitting room door. Randor hurried to let the Sorceress in. Orko flitted over and Dorgan joined them in a conference. Randor walked back to Adam and Teela. "You two are going to have to get used to that," he said. "People are going to congratulate you a lot."

"And some of them are going to be quite snarky about it," Adam said. "I won't see that much, I guess, or not for awhile, but Teela might." He looked at her. "Are you prepared for that?"

Teela looked a little startled. "Why would anyone be snarky?" she asked.

Adam rolled his eyes. "Lady Darla," he said, apparently by way of explanation. Teela seemed to get the message, because her eyes widened. "Any one of the girls who wants a chance to be Queen of Eternia could be snarky. The smart ones won't be, because they'll recognize that they should make friends with you if they want a place on your court, but you can bet some of them won't be that smart."

"Ick," Teela said. "Great, now I'm going to have people making friends with me just because they want to be friends with the queen."

"Welcome to my world," Adam said. "But it's okay, you learn to tell the difference. And sometimes you can figure out how to make real friends with the ones who just think they want to be friends with the royal family."

"Why would I want to do that?" Teela demanded.

Adam sighed and shook his head. "Come on, Teela," he said persuasively, "it's not necessarily a sign that they're horrible people. Once they realize that there is a real person inside the title, they can be quite different."

Randor found this conversation enlightening to say the least. He'd had friends before he became king, Adam was born a prince. It made something of a difference, it seemed.

"All right," Dorgan said, walking towards them. "There is a decision to be made. I want to do this procedure in the infirmary room so that we're close to all the medical equipment, while Orko thinks we should do it in your bedroom so that you don't have to be moved afterwards."

Randor looked to Adam, because it made little difference to him. He'd carry Adam from the infirmary to the bedroom if need be. Since everyone else turned to him as well, Adam looked a little startled. "Um . . . Sorceress, what do you think?"

"I do not know," she replied.

"What exactly is going to happen?" Adam asked.

"I'm going to cast a spell on you that will loosen the bonds of the last drug," Orko said, drifting back and forth with nervous cheer. "There's nothing explosive about it, though, so it won't be dangerous."

"It's going to send your body awash with foreign matter again, in much greater numbers than the previous spells did," Dorgan said. "Because it's loosening all the remaining particles of the conditioning drug at once."

"So I'm going to be very sick?" Adam asked. "But . . . won't it make me hyper condition . . . um . . . conditional?"

"Suggestible," Dorgan amended. He blinked worriedly. "It could, I suppose, I hadn't considered it."

Randor noticed that Teela was gazing anxiously at Adam, who cleared his throat nervously. "If that's the case, maybe it would be better if I just slept through it."

Dorgan pursed his lips, and didn't respond. The Sorceress spoke thoughtfully. "A dreamless sleep might help that but . . ."

"But we wouldn't know if you were in any physical difficulty, my boy," Dorgan said. "I'm not sure that's such a good –"

"Yes, we would," Teela said suddenly. "I can tell you. His heart rate just speeded up."

"Teela!" Adam exclaimed, going red.

"And now he's annoyed."

"Yes, well, I think we all observed the latter," Dorgan said, dryly.

"Teela," Adam repeated more quietly. "That's embarrassing."

"I'm sorry, but I thought they needed some kind of evidence." Adam still looked uneasy. Teela squeezed him. "And you don't have to worry, because I'll be with you the whole time."

Adam gazed at her a moment with gratitude, but then his eyes widened. He turned towards Randor. "Dad?" he asked.

"I'll be there, too, son," he answered.

"Okay," Adam said. He looked at the trio, healer, sorceress and wizard. "So, asleep, please? If Teela can you tell what my body's doing, that should solve the problem."

"I suppose it would be for the best," Dorgan said hesitantly, looking at the Sorceress. "Is it likely that Teela can tell us sufficiently what's going on with him?"

"I believe so."

Dorgan considered a moment longer, then nodded decisively. "Then let's do it." He made a face. "That still doesn't answer our original disagreement. Where do we do it?" Dorgan asked.

"Probably not my room," Adam said. "My mother and Duncan are in there talking privately." Dropping his arm from Teela's shoulders, he took her hand and headed towards the infirmary room. Randor followed, wondering at the fact that Adam had managed to notice Duncan and Marlena's leaving amid his own conversation and concerns.

If all went well, they would be returning to the palace in two days, and he really had to consider how he was going to manage things in the long term so that he always had time for Adam.

* * *

Jeclarren cooked as quickly as possible, wondering if any of the foodstuffs were things she'd picked up on her murderous trip the previous day. Daviona was very focused on her work, largely ignoring him and not speaking much. He wanted out of her presence as soon as possible.

She'd asked him to fix a cold lunch for them, and when she took him back to the room she had him carry it with him. Jeclarren walked across the room and put it down on the table.

Sanviro rose and walked over to the door, watching her out of sight. Then he came and put an arm around Jeclarren's shoulders. "Are you all right?" he asked. Jeclarren shrugged. "Good, then," Sanviro said as if he'd replied in the affirmative. "We need to get back to work on your reading."

Jeclarren didn't really want to do anything, but Sanviro was very managing. He wouldn't take no for an answer.

Hours later, when Daviona came for Sanviro, she left Jeclarren alone with only his thoughts for company. They were not pleasant ones. She had killed someone. If he had killed her on any of the occasions he'd thought about it, whoever it was would still be alive.

She was planning something, that much was clear, and he wanted desperately to stop her. However, she had already planned for so many contingencies that it made him nervous about attempting to kill her. If he didn't succeed on the first try, she might kill him, which would leave Sanviro alone. Alternatively, she might just put him in isolation as she'd talked about, which would also leave Sanviro alone. Either way, they'd be considerably worse off, and he wouldn't get another chance.

He didn't know what to do, but one thing he did know. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Sanviro alone with her. Together, they had some chance of maintaining their sanity. Alone . . .

It didn't bear thinking about.

* * *

Evil-Lyn sat in her study, going over books of offensive spells, though she hadn't turned the page in a long while, nor was she really seeing the words and diagrams in front of her. She was still stunned by her own abrupt declaration of the previous night. True, it had been building for some time, but for it to just burst out like that . . . she wasn't usually that impulsive.

Still, once the decision was made and announced, however impulsively, there was no turning back, and she could no longer pretend, even in the privacy of her own mind, that Skeletor bore any real resemblance to the man she'd known two decades ago. It had been years since a single word had been said about Keldor's political agenda. Skeletor seemed to be all about revenge and power, and nothing more.

She could understand those desires, but those whom she wanted revenge on seemed to be beyond her reach. As for power . . . that she wanted as well, but there were limits to what she was willing to do to achieve it. That had once been true of Keldor, but apparently not of Skeletor.

She couldn't count on Randor agreeing to her scheme, he wasn't that practical. She didn't know why she'd suggested a plan that put her in so much danger; a full pardon wasn't really that important to her. Still, what was done was done, and that boy had suffered more than enough. Any score she might have had to settle with Randor was mightily outweighed by her complicity in what had happened to his son.

And Adam . . . she owed the boy any recompense of his choosing. He'd never wronged her in any way.

It all came back to that, she thought, leaning back in her chair. Duncan was right. No matter how she twisted and turned, trying to rationalize, he had her neatly pinned to the wall. She was as guilty of Daviona's deeds as if she had planned them. And seeing that choice, that decision, in a different light had cast the same stark illumination over other decisions, reaching back years. It was as if a door had opened on her soul, and she didn't much like the view.

For one thing, it was making her thoughts appallingly melodramatic in a way that was hardly enjoyable.

"Woolgathering?" came a nasal voice behind her. Only years of practice dealing with the silent comings and goings of the Lord of Snake Mountain enabled her not to react to the unwelcome surprise of his arrival. "I expected to find you hard at work."

She looked up at him languidly. "I am," she drawled. "Can't you tell?"

"Of course," he said, walking forward and shoving some of her books aside to lean one hip on her table. "How are you coming?"

"I've already placed three new shields around the mountain," she said. "Didn't you notice them?"

"Naturally, but I wasn't sure if you were done or not. After all, we do want to be ready to protect the young prince when he arrives."

"I am building the next shield in my mind before I set it," she said blandly. "You are interrupting."

His eyes flashed crimson. "Do not push me, Evil-Lyn."

She sat up straight. "Forgive me, Lord Skeletor."

The light in his eyes faded, and he looked down at her almost benevolently. "You are forgiven, my dear." Pushing off the table, he stood up straight. "Keep up the good work."

She turned to watch him go, and when he had shut the door behind him, she relaxed and narrowed her eyes. He was also getting deplorably confident of his control over her. She already had several more shields in mind, and none of them would be difficult to place. Not that Skeletor would be able to tell the difference.

Leaning back again, she contemplated what she had to offer Randor. At this precise moment it was little enough. She didn't have any detailed information about Skeletor's plans. She didn't have much of anything, truth be told.

If she could hand them Daviona on a plate, that would be something. Randor might absolve her of the murder of whole villages if she could manage that. With the Sorceress failing, however, it hardly seemed likely that Evil-Lyn would succeed. Unless . . . if she thought of a different angle . . .

* * *


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

With Adam deep in dreamless sleep and Teela sitting next to him, holding his hand, Randor felt safe to draw off a little to discuss the Evil-Lyn issue when Marlena and Duncan came in. Teela and Dorgan were very focused on Adam's physical condition, while Orko and the Sorceress were actively casting. No one was listening to them.

Marlena pursed her lips when he asked her what she thought. "I think we ought to give it a chance. She's never been known to go back on her sworn word."

"Until now," Randor said. "She swore to Keldor and now she's breaking those vows –"

Marlena shook her head. "To Keldor, not to Skeletor. There is no denying that Skeletor does not want the same things as Keldor did. Even his taking a new name suggests that he considers himself to be a different person."

Duncan nodded. "There are cultures in which the taking on of a new name requires that all contracts, all oaths, all treaties, be remade."

"Perhaps, but I'm uneasy about this sudden turnabout."

Duncan shrugged tacit agreement, but Marlena looked pensive. Randor waited to see what she had to say. Sighing, she looked up. "Maybe it's not as sudden as it seems," she said. "After all, she could hardly demonstrate doubts without arousing suspicions in Skeletor, who isn't known for dealing kindly with traitors."

Randor grimaced. The tales that had come out of the Dark Hemisphere regarding how Kronos had become Trap Jaw were horrible. "True enough."

"So she may have been considering such a move for some time, and only now did she feel ready to take the irrevocable step."

He didn't like it, but Marlena was making sense. "So you think we should listen to her?" he asked. "Offer her a pardon?"

"Make it conditional," Marlena said. "She has to give us material help or it won't wash."

"Define material," Randor said. "We don't want her creating a crisis so she can solve it."

"Oh, for pity's sake," Duncan growled. "This is pointless. She's an intelligent woman, we're intelligent people. We could spend all day coming up with ways that she could trick us. The question is whether you're willing to give her the chance or not. Whether you're willing to take the risk or not. If you are, then I tell her so tonight and we see what she has to offer. If you aren't, then I tell her so tonight and we find out if she was serious about leaving Skeletor."

Randor glowered at Duncan. "I hate it when you're right," he muttered.

Duncan shrugged. "So, do you have an answer, or do you want more time?"

Randor looked down at his hands. "Marlena, you've already said that you're in favor of giving it a try. Is that still how you feel?" She nodded. "Very well, then. Duncan, tell her we'll take her up on her offer and see what she's got to say."

"Fine," Duncan said. "Then I'm afraid I should probably go. With the murders last night and the wedding plans, there are bound to be things I should attend to."

Marlena nodded. "I should probably go as well, but I will come back tonight."

Randor took her hand and squeezed it. "I'm counting the minutes," he said, a jest that harkened back to their courtship. She gave him a quick kiss and stood up.

Duncan rolled his eyes, and Randor elected not to hear the muttered, "Spare me."

He watched them leave, then moved to the bed, taking a book. He had promised Adam that he wouldn't leave him, but there wasn't much for him to do in these circumstances. Orko had cast a spell that surrounded Adam with a nimbus of pinkish light. Sitting down outside that nimbus, Randor opened his book and began to read.

After another half hour, Orko's spell dissipated, and the jester floated downwards slightly, looking very weary. The Sorceress, too, looked drained. Teela put a hand on Adam's forehead and said, "He's got a fever, and I think he's getting hotter."

"Apply a cold compress," Dorgan said and Teela took up one of the cloths they'd laid ready for this need. Dorgan was busy drawing blood. He took it over to the table where he'd set up his equipment.

Randor focused on the spellcasters. "Are you two all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Orko said. "Sorceress?"

"I too, am well," she said. "I need some rest, but that was a powerful casting."

"I just hope it worked," Orko added, floating over to the healer. "How does it look, Dorgan?" he asked.

"It looks very good." Dorgan turned, a grin on his face. "Very good indeed. The drug has dropped free of the blood cells and doesn't appear to be rebonding."

"How long will it take to flush through his system?" Randor asked.

"A few hours, no more than that." He moved over to Adam's side. "Once it's largely out of his bloodstream, we'll wake him up and take some urine samples."

Randor smiled, hoping that this part of the recovery was done with at last. If they could pronounce a stage complete, he thought Adam would feel considerably better about everything.

* * *

Duncan leaned against the wall, waiting. He felt rather foolish standing alone in the alley. It was late and few people were abroad. No one seemed to have noticed him in particular, but he still felt very conspicuous. When an arch of lavender light rose over the top of him, though, he started with surprise.

"Good evening, Duncan," Evil-Lyn said before she stepped out of her concealment.

"How do you do that?" he asked as she drew shadow aside like a curtain.

"It's an innate gift," she said off-handedly. "So, have you spoken to stuffybeard?"

"I do wish you would have the minimal respect to refer to him by name," Duncan said. Evil-Lyn shrugged. "Yes, I've spoken with Randor. He's taking you up on your offer."

She blinked, looking startled. "I didn't expect that." It was his turn to shrug. "As it happens, I had anticipated having to persuade him, and because of that I've thought of something I want to try."

"What?" Duncan asked, perplexed.

"I was pondering what I know about the problem of locating Daviona, and I've come up with one possible solution that I very much doubt _she_'s tried."

There was no need to ask who _she_ was. "What's that?"

"I need two things. Some of Adam's blood, and access to the room he was in when she drained him."

Duncan gave her a suspicious look. "Why? What do you intend to do?"

"Daviona obviously doesn't have any kind of hook directly into him. The Sorceress could have followed that back as easy as can be, and if she'd had a hook, she could have shielded the link and so wouldn't have left such cascades of power to point to the spot."

"Yes, we know that much," Duncan replied. "Why do you want Adam's blood?"

"Because that's what she must have used to connect to him. I might, with the right spell and a bit of luck, be able to locate the blood as the anchor for that spell."

"Wouldn't that just point you to where she was when we found her the second time?"

Evil-Lyn shook her head. "Unless she left the blood behind, I should be able to divine its current location. By using it as a focal point, she broadcast its . . ." She grimaced. "These things are difficult to talk about in lay terms. I suppose you could say 'its essence' though that isn't quite what I mean. As a result, I might be able to locate her by searching out that essence."

"You want me to give you Adam's blood, though?" Duncan said, unable to let that idea go. It was disturbing, at this point, to have a mage ask for Adam's blood, particularly one who had been an enemy for so long.

She rolled her eyes. "Ancients be damned, Duncan, I'm not a blood mage."

"I'm sure Daviona isn't either, but –"

A snort of derision made him fall silent. Shaking her head contemptuously, she said, "What do you think those murders were about? That was blood magic."

"But I thought . . ." Duncan blinked. "I thought she drained them too far during the sex and they just died."

"Oh, that's part of it," she replied in an offensively superior tone. "She's extremely skilled. At the beginning, all she's doing is sex magic, but at the end she somehow ties them together to draw the most power possible from the man's death, and drawing power from death is blood magic, beyond a doubt." She paused thoughtfully. "That's why her distance draining of Adam is so startling. It was incredibly wasteful, and nothing else I've seen of her indicates that she's at all wasteful."

"How much have you seen of her?" Duncan asked.

"I've been to two of the murder sites, and I've looked around both her burrows." He started back in consternation. When? How? Damn it all . . . Her eyes mocked his reaction, but it didn't show in her voice. "There's a lot to be learned about personality from a person's work habits, as I'm sure you know," she paused to smile condescendingly, "and there are things that one mage can observe of another that ordinary people cannot see."

"I see." Duncan was unwillingly intrigued. "So do you really think you could find her?"

"I think it's possible. Sufficiently possible that I'd recommend you gather a strike force so you can be ready to take immediate action."

He considered this, wishing he could call Randor. After a moment, he looked at her. "Can you lower this shield so I can use my comlink?"

"Very well. I shall step into shadow but stay close by."

He nodded, and she pulled the shadows around her, then lowered the shield. Duncan raised his comlink to his lips. "Duncan to Marlena."

"Yes, Duncan?" Marlena said almost at once.

"Are you alone, your highness?"

"No. Just a moment." There were some voices in the background and then the sound of a door closing. "Now I'm alone. What is it?"

"Evil-Lyn has an interesting proposition." He explained it to her and waited for her response.

"I have a few questions. Can we observe this spell? How long would she need the blood, and would she need to take it out of the sight of whoever observes her? Is there any danger to her or to the palace residents from the spell?"

"Let me ask her." Duncan turned back and within a moment, the lavender arch had returned and Skeletor's sorceress had stepped out of hiding.

"Yes?" she asked expectantly.

"Did you hear Marlena's questions?"

Evil-Lyn nodded. "I did. Yes, the spell can be observed, and I'd only need the blood for the duration of the spell, and it will remain in plain sight the whole time."

"And danger?"

She shrugged. "No more danger than any other spell being cast there," she replied. "Far less than when you let your jester loose."

Duncan glowered at her. "Orko has proven his worth many times over during this crisis. I would recommend not showing him disrespect."

Evil-Lyn blinked at him. "Has he?" she asked, almost seeming curious. "His energies usually seem to tangle in the magical patterns of our world. Has he found a way to make them blend more smoothly?" Duncan wasn't sure what to make of the question, but Evil-Lyn waved it away. "Not that it matters," she said. "Many of his past spells have caused far more havoc to the palace environs than is possible as a result of the spell I intend to do."

"Is it possible for Daviona to attack you by means of this?" Duncan asked.

She gave him a smile that was almost a leer. "Why Duncan, I didn't know you cared," she said, posing seductively.

He shrugged. "I don't. I just wanted to be prepared for the possibility of exploding witch."

She stared at him for a moment in silence, then chuckled, dropping the pose. "The possibility exists, but it is remote. If she attacked me, she would no doubt do something less drastic." He raised an eyebrow, and she elucidated. "Drain me to the level of coma or worse, assuming she could get through my defenses."

He nodded. "Very well. If you will allow me . . ." He gestured at the technology-deadening spell. Evil-Lyn stepped back into shadow, then dissipated it again. He contacted Marlena and passed the information on.

It didn't take the queen long to decide. "Bring her, Duncan, but keep a close watch on her."

"Of course, your highness," Duncan said. It was very strange to have a woman cloaked in shadow riding on the back of his sky sled. He wondered what people who saw him could see. When they arrived at the palace, she murmured that he needed to be careful to put down in a shadowy corner, as well lit areas made it difficult for her to hide.

He did as she requested, and she followed him to the infirmary where Marlena had already cleared the room in question and was waiting. The curtains were also shut. Duncan made sure that the door was closed, then turned to find that Evil-Lyn had stepped out of shadow and was regarding the queen of Eternia with wary respect. This surprised him given her customary lack of respect for Randor, but he put it aside as unimportant at the moment.

"Evil-Lyn," Marlena said, nodding a greeting. "I have here one of samples of blood that Daviona took, so it should be identical in every way to the one that . . . the one she used to connect to Adam. Including the container. Does that help?"

Evil-Lyn nodded, holding out her hand. Marlena hesitated, then handed the vial over. "That should be a great help, actually," the wizardess said. "I'm going to need a map when I've finished, so I can pinpoint the location."

"Of course," Duncan said.

"Are you going to gather the troops?" she asked, tilting her head archly.

"How long is this likely to take?" he asked.

"Between two and eight hours," she replied.

"Everyone's already on call. I think I'll let them sleep until they're needed."

She shrugged and walked over to the bed. "Is this still in the same position it was in when Adam was here?" she asked. Marlena nodded and they watched Evil-Lyn climb onto the bed and sit cross legged in the middle. She looked down at the blood and began to chant. After several seconds, it raised out of her hands to float before her eyes. They both sat down and waited. Nothing more happened as minutes passed. Evil-Lyn's chant had dropped to a murmur. Duncan stepped outside and summoned a map. When it came, he went back inside.

As evening drew towards night, Duncan turned towards his queen. "Marlena, you said you'd return tonight. I can hold down the fort here."

"You need back up," she said. "Is there someone . . . Nalineph. Do you think he's up to this?"

Duncan nodded slowly. "Yes, actually, I think he is."

"Then send for him, and when he's here, I'll go. Randor should be told about this in any case."

Within fifteen minutes, Nalineph arrived, and Duncan explained the situation to him hastily in an undertone before taking him into the room. He still stared in wonderment at their long time adversary sitting peacefully in the middle of an infirmary bed in the midst of a spell. Marlena quietly thanked the guardsman for his help and left.

At Nalineph's suggestion, they settled down to play cards while they waited for information. Duncan hoped devoutly that this wouldn't prove to be a colossal waste of time.

* * *

Marlena walked across the drawbridge and waited for it to close. When it had, she turned towards the gloomy passage that led to the throne room and spoke. "Sorceress?" Then she waited, not sure whether to expect mental contact or a physical appearance.

After several moments, the woman floated out of the darkness and settled down in front of her. "I have been watching," she said. "And I think her idea may prove successful."

Marlena's eyes widened. She'd expected to have to explain the plan despite her minimal understanding of the magical theories involved. Having the Sorceress remove the need for explanation and offer encouragement simultaneously was a little disorienting. "You really think so?" she asked.

"I do," the Sorceress said. "And I . . . I hope you do not object, but I kept Randor apprised of the situation. He is with Adam and the others now, they are waiting for you."

"The procedure, did it work?"

The Sorceress smiled warmly. "I would not dream of depriving your son of the opportunity to tell you himself."

Marlena nodded, feeling sure that the Sorceress would have told her if things had not gone well. The other woman turned away and Marlena followed the familiar path to their suite. She opened the door and found the sitting room empty. The door to Adam's bedroom stood slightly ajar, and she could hear conversation within. Walking over, she pushed it open. Adam was sitting cross legged and leaning against the headboard with cards in his hand and a pile of chips in front of him. His opponents, gathered around the bed, didn't seem to be faring as well, though Dorgan was clearly doing better than Teela or Randor. Her husband, in fact, was making quite a poor showing from the meager pile in front of him.

They all looked up, and Adam's face lit with happiness. "It worked!" he exclaimed. "Dorgan says that the drugs have been reduced to a negligible amount, and Orko says I don't light up his magic sense anymore!"

Marlena's smile broadened and she leaned across to give him a hug. Then she walked around and stood behind her husband, placing her hands on his shoulders. He reached up and squeezed her right hand.

"Do you want to join us?" Dorgan asked.

"No, I don't think so," she replied. "I'll just sit here and watch. I'll just go fetch my crochet." Suiting action to words, she pulled up a chair next to Randor and sat with him, enjoying Adam's good mood and the atmosphere of hope. Before long, Adam started to droop, but he wouldn't admit to being tired. He wanted to stay up and enjoy the evening longer. She was reminded of a much smaller boy begging to be allowed to stay up just a few minutes more.

Finally, Teela let out a yawn that Marlena thought was false and said, "I'm getting sleepy." She was sitting on the bed with Adam. Now she stood up. "I'm going to go get changed for bed."

"I believe that's my cue to leave," Dorgan said. "Adam, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Adam said, visibly stifling a yawn. "Not sleepy at all."

Marlena rose and put her crochet in her chair. Walking over to her son's side, she bent and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Go to sleep, Adam," she said softly. "You will still be better in the morning, I promise."

He gave her a resigned look. "You always could see through that."

"That's what mothers are for," she replied. "Now, are you dressed for bed?" He nodded. "Good, then let's get you under the covers." She fussed at him for a few minutes which he took in good part. Dorgan and Randor cleared away the rest of the game and put the chairs back where they belonged. When she had Adam neatly tucked in, she gave him another kiss and got out of Randor's way.

He sat on the edge of the bed. "Do you need me in with you to get to sleep, Adam?"

The boy looked up uncertainly. "I really don't know," he said. "Let's try without. Teela will come fetch you if I can't handle it."

Randor squeezed Adam's hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Good night son," he said. Then he took Marlena's hand and they left the room. Dorgan was already in the sitting room. They sat down by the window, away from the door and put their heads together. "Is there any fresh news of Evil-Lyn's search?" Randor asked.

"I suspect the Sorceress has more recent tidings than I," she replied. "But Evil-Lyn herself said that it could be many hours before we'd know anything."

Randor sighed, but he looked satisfied. "I can wait hours. I hope it works. I want that woman brought to justice."

"As do we all."

Dorgan shook his head. "I don't want justice. I want vengeance. For what she's put Adam through, I want to see her suffer."

"Suffering leaves too much opportunity to escape," Randor replied. "I want her dead and past recall as soon as possible."

Marlena found that she could contemplate that idea with a great deal of pleasure. She picked up her crochet and continued to work at it.

* * *

Nalineph had gone to the privy, and Duncan was leaning back in his chair, his legs out straight before him, ankles and arms crossed, when the vial of blood suddenly dropped. Evil-Lyn caught it in one hand, then her eyes flipped open. She stared at him for a split second, then snapped, "The map! Get me the map!" He was up before he knew it, the map in his hands. He'd left it unrolled and ready for her. She leaned over it and pointed, and a little purple dot marked the vellum. "There. Take explosives, it has the feeling of being underground."

"Does she know you've found her?"

"I doubt it, but she might. Hurry."

He gave the orders into his comlink and before he rushed out of the room, he asked, "Do you need anything?"

"No, Duncan. I can take care of myself. Find her and destroy her. Monsters like that give magic a bad name."

He nodded and barely registered that she draped herself in shadow as he flung the door open and ran out. It was just past dawn. He joined the strike force and they set off for the place Evil-Lyn had identified.

* * *


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52**

Jeclarren finished kneading the bread and put it in a bowl in the warming oven to rise a second time. Daviona was back to her muttering, but he couldn't really understand her. She was so focused that her words seemed almost internally directed, with no more than a quiet murmur reaching him. He was just as glad. He didn't want to hear her talking about Prince Adam's manly attributes and delightful suffering again. Nor did he want to know her plans when he had no way to affect them.

He began to slice the cheese very thin so that he could put it in the casserole he was preparing for dinner. Daviona's mutter behind him stopped suddenly. He kept slicing, the knife clicking in a steady rhythm as it hit the cutting board at the end of each stroke.

"Stop!" Daviona commanded sharply, and he turned in surprise. She was looking at nothing, clearly listening for something. Jeclarren stretched his own ears to try and hear. There was a faint rumble, as of distant thunder, and he had a horrified moment of fear that an earthquake or other similar phenomenon was occurring. Then Daviona began to curse fluently. "Gather food," she ordered. Pointing, she attached his leg to the floor where he stood and left the room.

At a loss to understand what was going on, Jeclarren did as she had asked, insofar as he was able with one foot immobilized. She returned a moment later with two full bundles and a satchel. "Fill this."

Again he followed her instructions. She hovered impatiently beside him, waiting for him to finish. He hurried as much as he could till the satchel was full. He slung it on his back and took her bundles. Realization was dawning. If he hadn't been so tired and depressed it would have come to him sooner. Someone was breaking in. They'd found her, and she was attempting to escape. He was contemplating things to do to slow her down when they reached the cell. She physically flung the bar aside and then turned to cast her portal spell. Sanviro came forward, eyes wide.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"She's moving us again," Jeclarren said.

Sanviro's eyes widened. "Why?" A louder rumble reached their ears and answered the question. "Rescue?" he mouthed.

Jeclarren nodded. "I think so," he replied silently. They turned to watch her. The portal blocked the only exit from the anteroom to the cells, trapping them within. Sanviro retreated into the back of the cell. Jeclarren dropped his bundles to do the same, but at that moment Daviona finished the portal. She turned and saw Sanviro backing away. Reaching out, she cast the control spell on him alone, apparently not considering it necessary to control Jeclarren who stood so close beside her. Sanviro, expecting it and prepared, fought her as hard as he could. Nevertheless, he was taking slow steps forward, his face set in a rictus of desperation. There was another rumble, and this one shook them. It distracted Sanviro enough that she forced him forward a few more steps.

She was going to get him. He was ten feet away from the portal. Jeclarren was free, though closer still to the portal. He could refuse to go, and with the fight Sanviro was putting up, he doubted whether she could control them both if he fought as well. He shook his head – Sanviro had family, people to go back to. He had a life.

Jeclarren rushed forward, grabbed her and shook her. The spell snapped and Sanviro stumbled backwards. She turned furious eyes on him, but he spoke quickly. "You don't have much time. If you try to take us both, I'll fight as hard as he is. It will take longer, and you'll only get one of us anyway. If you just take me, I won't fight you."

Her eyes widened, but another, longer rumble decided her. With only a gesture she slammed the cell door shut again, leaving Sanviro inside, and said, "Very well. Take the bundles."

He did and she took his arm and dragged him swiftly through the portal.

* * *

Duncan strode along the long narrow cavern. It had clearly been shaped by something other than nature, and he wondered if it had been cut out of the stone or if she had merely shaped already existing caverns to her liking. They'd come to a couple of doorways, and they'd had to stop to check them out or risk leaving an enemy behind them. One had led into a single room, a kitchen, and another had led into a complex of rooms that he guessed were designed to be her guards' barracks and recreation rooms. At present they were empty apart from furniture that was more than three hundred years out of date. He'd ordered the door sealed before they moved on.

As they headed back down the main hall, they heard running footsteps around a bend up ahead. He nodded to Mekanek who sent his head questing, just far enough to see without being seen. His neck retracted and he said, "It's one boy, alone, unarmed and barefoot."

Duncan waved them to lower their weapons, knowing they'd keep them ready nonetheless. If the boy was no threat, raised weapons might frighten him. If he was a threat, they'd have time to deal with it then.

It was a young man of middle height with light brown hair and brown eyes. He came to a stop when he saw them. "They're gone!" he cried. "She took him and they're gone! He . . . he . . ." Duncan saw that he was shaking and that tears streamed down his face unheeded. Deactivating his hand cannon, he gestured to the others to go on. Mekanek nodded and the rest of them continued, leaving Felinar behind as back up. Duncan doubted he needed it, but it was his own policy.

Duncan approached the boy, who had collapsed. He went down on one knee and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, ready to pull away if the boy seemed alarmed. "Are you Sanviro?"

The young man looked up, eyes wide and wet with tears. "You know my name, sir?" he asked in considerable surprise.

Duncan nodded. "Of course, we've been looking for you."

Sanviro didn't seem able to take that in. He shook his head and got suddenly to his feet. "Jeclarren!" he cried, pointing down the passage the way he had come. "She took him! She took him away! They're gone! He . . . he . . ." Sanviro dissolved into incoherence again, and Duncan put an arm around his shoulders. Felinar watched in concern, though he kept a watchful eye on the corridors.

"We'll get him back," Duncan assured the young man. "We'll get him back."

Suddenly Sanviro's head snapped up again, and he met Duncan's eyes with a frenzied look. "The prince! You must protect the prince! She wants him, she talks about it all the time. You must protect him!"

Duncan nodded. "We know she wants him," he said reassuringly. "He's safe. He's beyond her reach."

"You are certain?" Sanviro asked. "Are you close to the royal family?"

"I am, and I'm certain. She can't reach him where he is. She's tried and failed."

He continued in this vein, reassuring the boy as much as he could. He knew that Daviona could be using Sanviro as a distraction, to attack them unawares, but it didn't strike him as her style. She was much more the type to cut and run. They hadn't cornered her yet, she always seemed to have a bolt hole. No, he thought Sanviro was what he seemed to be and nothing more. Why she had left him behind remained to be understood, but he was no threat.

Mekanek returned after a few moments and Duncan looked up, squeezing Sanviro's shoulder. "She's gone," the master said. "Sanviro and our team are the only ones here. There's a lot of stuff left behind, though. We caught her by surprise."

"She was in great haste," Sanviro said, and they both looked at him. "She tried . . ." He trailed off, making amorphous gestures with his hands that Duncan couldn't interpret. His eyes welled up again. "But he . . . he . . ." He buried his face in his hands.

"You can tell us later," Duncan said sympathetically. He murmured quiet reassurances to him until he seemed calmer, then said, "Has she been giving you drugs?" Sanviro nodded, his eyes wide. "Did you see what kind?"

"Yes," Sanviro stammered. "Blue mostly, green a couple of times."

"No yellow?" Duncan asked.

Sanviro shook his head. "Nothing yellow."

Duncan smiled and squeezed his shoulders. "I need to go do something, but this is Mekanek. He's a good man. He'll stay with you." Mekanek took his position and Duncan walked a few feet away. They had to get Sanviro out of here, but he wasn't at all sure that the palace was their best choice immediately. For all he knew, Daviona might have a way to link to this boy, too, and a distance draining would likely kill him. She might do it just out of spite. Once he was out of easy earshot of the others, he spoke quietly. "Sorceress?"

Not surprisingly, he received no response. He jogged back down to the hole they'd created in the mountainside and climbed out to try again.

The response was immediate. _"Yes, Duncan?"_

"_We have located her lair, but she's fled again, taking one of the young men with her."_ He could sense the Sorceress' distress at the news. _"She did leave Sanviro behind, and I thought it might be –"_

"_Bring him,"_ the Sorceress said immediately. _"All the help he can receive is here, and the possible threat from Daviona is great. Hurry."_

Duncan didn't need telling twice. He ran back to where he'd left Mekanek and Sanviro. "I'm going to stay here to run the search," he said to Mekanek without preamble. "Sanviro, we know how to deal with the drugs she's put into you, and I'm going to have Mekanek and Felinar take you to the place where they can do that."

Sanviro looked up. "But Jeclarren. You have to find him! He . . ." His face crumpled.

"Later, my boy," Duncan said as kindly as he could. "I will come to see you this afternoon, I promise, and I'll bring Ford, or Borleon." Sanviro blinked, seeming startled by the mention of his mentor and his betrothed's father. "Do you want to see them?" Duncan asked gently.

"I . . . I don't know." Sanviro was looking down at his feet, his shoulders tense with unhappiness.

"They want to see you."

"They don't know . . ." Raising his eyes to Duncan's, he started over. "They can't know what's happened, though."

"I have already spoken to them," Duncan replied. "They know, and they want to see you."

"But I'm . . . I have been unfaithful to Romily."

Duncan shook his head. "No, son, you haven't," he said in a gentle voice. "You had no choice, and they know that as well as I do."

Sanviro's eyes filled with tears, and he covered his face with his hands. Mekanek looked at Duncan. "I'll take him now."

Duncan caught Mekanek's attention and walked about ten feet away. Mekanek murmured something in Sanviro's ear, then sent his head out to Duncan. "Take him to Grayskull," Duncan said.

"Really?" Mekanek said, sounding surprised.

"And hurry."

Mekanek nodded and, with Felinar, guided the boy out of the prison into the light of day.

Duncan turned back to help the others discover the secrets of this place.

* * *

Adam awoke in the early morning to find that his father was awake before him. The king was sitting by the window, gazing out over the abyss and the wasteland that surrounded Grayskull. He turned when Adam got up, disentangling himself from Teela and Cringer. The great cat looked at him reproachfully and snuggled into the place Adam had vacated. Teela put an arm around him and Adam bit his lip to keep from laughing aloud.

Giving his father a quick hug, Adam headed into the bathing chamber to get cleaned up. When he came out, his father rose and walked through into the sitting room with him. They settled down on the chairs by the window and Adam said, "How are you, Dad? You seem quiet this morning."

Randor smiled at him. "I'm going to miss this," he said. "Not so much Grayskull, but this time without the clamor of petitioners and diplomats and enemies."

Adam nodded. "I will too," he said. He hadn't considered that part and parcel of their removal from Grayskull was a return to the palace where everyone felt they had a call on his father's time.

"You know, I've been thinking." Adam looked over at his father curiously. "I think that when you're feeling more up to public activities, you should spend time observing me. You will be king someday –"

"Not for a long time, I hope," Adam interjected, feeling a stab of panic.

Randor leaned across and squeezed his shoulder. "No, not for a long time. I mean to live till I'm a hundred and twelve." Adam grinned back at him. "But it wouldn't go amiss for you to get a feel for what I do and how I do things. You can watch me for the day, and then we'll talk over what I did and you can ask questions. Does that make sense to you?"

"Yes, it does." Adam looked out the window. "When will we be going?"

"That depends on Dorgan," his father said. "And the Sorceress."

The door to the bedroom opened and Teela came out, yawning. She walked over and sat on the arm of his chair. "When did you start being such an early bird?"

He raised an eyebrow impishly. "Always, Teela," he said, leaning back in his chair. "I get my extra sleep in the middle of the day."

She drew breath to respond, but just then breakfast arrived, distracting them both. She glared at him and Adam grinned up at her, but when he stood up, she took his hand. They went over to the table and sat down. Then his mother emerged, and she and Teela started another one of those impenetrable conversations about flowers and clothing. No lace, and for that he was grateful.

He got to work sorting through the precedents on the property rights case. It had rather gotten pushed aside amongst all the other things that had happened.

His father's hand came to rest on his shoulder and Adam looked up, smiling, but his father's expression was grave. "Is something wrong?" Adam asked.

"Not exactly, no," Randor said, sitting down at the head of the table. Adam glanced at his mother, realizing abruptly that her conversation with Teela had died a few moments before. She was also looking somber and Teela looked as clueless as he felt.

"What's going on?"

"Man-at-Arms and the masters have found Daviona's second hideout, but she got away again."

Adam didn't know what to feel. They'd found her, but they still hadn't caught her. He looked down at his hands. How he wanted her to . . . he didn't know what. He just didn't want her to ever hurt anyone again. "What about Jeclarren and Sanviro?"

"She left Sanviro behind," his mother said. "Why isn't clear at the moment,"

Adam jumped up. "What's being done for him? Where is he?"

"With Mekanek in a wind raider," his father said. "On his way here at the Sorceress' invitation, but she thinks, and we agree," Adam's mother nodded, "that it would be better for Marlena and Teela to go for now. Just till we settle him and get him used to the idea."

Teela's eyes widened and she looked distressed. Adam's mother took her hand and said, "We have fittings for a wedding dress to do, and that requires a bride."

Adam gulped. Bride. That was one huge word. Not one he'd been prepared to hear. Not that he objected, but he hadn't thought about it in that word. He took a deep breath. This wasn't the time to be fretting over a word. Sanviro was coming and he'd need support.

He got up when Teela did and gave her a hug. "I couldn't be there anyway. The . . . the groom isn't supposed to see the bride in her gown before the wedding."

"Right," Teela said. "I'll see you soon, then."

"Soon," Adam replied. The smell of Teela's hair lingered pleasantly, and Adam found himself thinking about her. When they had gone, he sat down again and gazed at nothing.

"Copper for your thoughts," his father said after a couple of minutes.

"Teela is beautiful," he said without thinking, then flushed.

"I'm aware of that," his father replied.

"I just . . . how come I never noticed?"

"You were too busy growing up with her."

Adam grimaced. "Ah, that explains it," he said sarcastically, and his father shrugged.

Dorgan came out of his room and bustled into the infirmary room without stopping. Adam looked up at his father. "I wonder what Sanviro is like."

Randor shook his head. "I've no more idea than you."

They waited, not talking much, both of them trying and failing to work. After nearly an hour, the door opened and Mekanek and a Qadian Adam didn't know came in with a slender young man about eight inches taller than Adam. He had brown hair and eyes, and Adam could see that he was what the court girls called a 'doe-eyed darling.' He was wearing something that strongly resembled one of the uniforms the guards in Daviona's service wore. Adam felt a little shiver of apprehension. On the chair beside him, out of Sanviro's sight, a set of more ordinary clothes appeared.

Adam grabbed them and stood up. "You must be Sanviro," he said, his voice a little too cheerful.

"Your highness." The young man started to bow, but Adam shook his head.

"No, don't be formal. You're among friends . . . I know what you've been through." Adam's father hadn't spoken, he seemed to be letting Adam take the lead. "Let's get you cleaned up and then you can meet Dorgan."

Sanviro nodded, looking stunned, and Adam got him to follow him into the bedroom. The Qadian trailed behind discreetly, following them into the bathing chamber. Sanviro didn't seem to notice, so Adam didn't say anything.

"I never dreamed of seeing the inside of Castle Grayskull," Sanviro said.

Adam nodded. "Until very recently, I'd seen very little of the castle myself." Sanviro looked at the tub with pleasure as it filled, and then started getting undressed. Adam wasn't sure what to do. He didn't know how Sanviro was likely to react. "Um . . ." he said. "If you want I can –" As he spoke, he started to turn away, but Sanviro interrupted him.

"No!" he exclaimed. Adam turned back, and Sanviro flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, your highness, for interrupting, but I don't want to be alone." He looked uneasy for a moment. "Is there someone who could stay with me?"

"Well, I can," Adam said.

"But you're the prince, your highness!" Sanviro said in some confusion. "Surely you have more important things to do."

Adam took a deep breath and sat down on the bench. "I'm here recovering," he said. "Besides, I know what you've been through, so who better to sit with you?" Sanviro smiled shyly. "And please," Adam said, "don't call me 'your highness.' Adam is fine."

Sanviro seemed not to know what to do with the idea that the prince wanted to be on a first name basis with him, so he focused on the task of getting cleaned up. Adam was busy trying not to remember the last time he'd sat on this bench. Only the Sorceress could have gotten the blood out of the wood, he thought.

After several minutes, Adam managed to push the memory aside. "I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner," he said.

Sanviro shook his head. "I never expected rescue, certainly not by Man-at-Arms and the Masters. And she told us that we were deep inside a mountain with no exit to the outside, so I . . . I hoped, after the first time she moved us that people were still looking, but I didn't really believe it."

Adam nodded, recalling the hopelessness of his four days with Daviona. "It's hard to hope when she's got you," he said bleakly, looking at nothing.

Sanviro was still for a moment, then he spoke softly. "Are you . . . do you mean to say . . ." Without speaking, Adam lifted the short sleeve of his shirt and turned so that Sanviro could see his right arm and the brand. Sanviro raised his hand without seeming to will it, touching the brand that Adam could see on his own right arm. "Elders preserve us! I knew she talked of wanting to secure you, but I never imagined that she had succeeded."

Adam shrugged unhappily. "She wants me back," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "But she had help to get me in the first place, from Skeletor."

Sanviro's eyes were warm with sympathy. "So when you say you know what I've been through, it's more than compassion."

Adam bit his lip. "I think our experiences differed in some ways," he said. "But the essence was very much the same."

"How dreadful for you," Sanviro said fervently.

"How dreadful for us all," Adam replied, thinking of the dozen men and two boys back at the palace, and of Jeclarren.

Sanviro's eyes widened and he looked stricken. "And Jeclarren is still . . . he . . . she . . ."

Adam didn't know what to do. The other young man looked like he was going to cry. "Finish your bath," he said gently. "We'll talk more about that after."

Sanviro took in a deep breath and nodded.

* * *

When they exited the portal, Daviona froze Jeclarren immediately and took down the gateway. Then she looked around herself sourly. Light filtered in from the bright day outside, dimly revealing their surroundings. Dark, dank, and showing the neglect of ages, the cellar was unappealing. It was a place she would never have chosen to flee to had they not forced her out of yet another home. She didn't know how they kept finding her. Many things had been left behind, like the vial of Adam's blood that she had counted on to help her get hold of him. Unaccountably, it had fallen and smashed on the floor, but she hadn't had time to worry about why.

She conjured a ball of light. At least she wasn't as depleted of power as she had been on her first and even her second escape from Randor's men. This time, though she doubted the need for it, she had gone back to older practices and concealed her store of energy far away from her dwelling place. That little freak of a wizard wasn't going to drain her carefully hoarded energy into the ether this time. Even the energy bubble that powered the mountain holding had been drained to its lowest sustainable level, the power joining her secret reservoir.

As she examined the walls and the ceiling of the place, she realized that it could never be made to serve. No matter, it was merely the first place that came to her mind as definitively uninhabited and away from the soldiers who were breaking in. She returned to Jeclarren's side and stroked his face. "So, did you want me all to yourself, my pet?" she asked. "I hope not, because I don't hold with that sort of possessiveness in my toys."

He couldn't respond, but she didn't require a response. Why the fellows always insisted on talking so much was a mystery to her. What did they think they could tell her that she would find interesting?

Turning away from him, she contemplated her options. Jeclarren wasn't yet ready to travel as her companion; he needed a good bit more training before that would be possible. She preferred to be more thrifty with her power, but portals were, for the moment, required.

She ran through her remaining properties in her mind, one after the other. Many of them were unsuitable for her current purposes. One or two of them were even inhabited, though she could make short work of that. Still, that would draw attention, and attention was what she did not want at present. Better by far to find someplace that was deserted.

* * *

Jeclarren stood still, clutching at the bundles she had given him, unable to move more than was necessary to keep him alive. His lungs still worked, his heart continued to beat, his intestines still functioned, he could blink, but beyond that he was frozen.

Daviona puttered about, muttering to herself, occasionally stroking some portion of him that was handy. He was unable to care much. Sanviro was free of her. Sanviro could return to his life, his friends, his Romily. He could be happy.

But Jeclarren was alone with Daviona, a circumstance which devastated him, but that he couldn't reasonably desire to change. Any alteration would just mean that another poor sap had been drawn in by her.

A thought occurred to him suddenly. If he tried to kill her now, he wouldn't be dooming Sanviro to a slow death by starvation. The thought leavened his despair with determination. At his first chance, he would kill her.

If she could be killed.

* * *


	53. Chapter 53

****

Chapter 53

When Sanviro was cleaned up, he seemed glad to be given normal clothes again. He sniffed them and smiled. "It is good to escape her perfumes," he said.

"I know," Adam replied. "It lingered in my nose for days after I got back."

They went back out into the bedroom, and Adam took him to the window to sit down. "I told you that you'd meet Dorgan after you got cleaned up. What I didn't tell you was that Dorgan is our healer."

Sanviro smiled faintly. "I have heard of him," he said. "Your family's doings are talked of a great deal in Yalin."

Adam grimaced. "Yes, well . . ." He shook his head and returned to the subject. "Dorgan is going to test you, to see what drugs Daviona used on you. We've already got some means of dealing with them, but we need to know what they are first."

"What does he need to do?" Sanviro asked nervously.

Licking his lips, Adam said, "He needs to draw some of your blood, and I'm afraid that requires a needle."

"I understand." Sanviro waited for a moment, then blinked a couple of times. "Is that . . . is that all?"

Adam nodded, confused. "I . . . I was . . . I freaked out really badly when . . . of course things were . . ."

Sanviro's brow wrinkled with concern. "Are you all right, y – Adam?"

Clearing his throat, Adam grimaced. "I'm fine," he said, though his voice didn't sound as strong as he'd have preferred. "I just . . . I didn't handle needles well . . . still don't, really, and I wanted to warn . . . in case you . . . I didn't . . ."

Sanviro caught his hand. "Thank you, it was a good thought," he said earnestly. "I . . . I don't know if you . . . have you heard anything of my Romily?"

Adam nodded. "She is at the palace, staying in the royal wing," he said, and Sanviro's eyes widened. "From what Teela's told me, she's anxious to get you back."

"Does she . . . is she aware of . . ."

Adam nodded. "That's what I understand," Adam said. "I haven't seen her myself, but she and Teela have become very close, and she's been helping in the research to locate Daviona."

Sanviro's eyes darkened. "Jeclarren is the best of men," he said suddenly. "It's because of him that I'm free. If he . . . she tried . . ." He shook his head. "He sacrificed himself for me."

Adam stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"She was using magic to make me move towards the portal." Sanviro was looking out the window, but Adam very much doubted that he was looking at the rocky landscape. "I was fighting the spell, and it was taking a long time to get me to move. We could hear the soldiers breaking in. I was trying to delay long enough so that she couldn't take us, but she was managing to pull me despite my struggles." Tears began streaming down his cheeks. "Jeclarren shook her, made her stop the spell, and told her that if she tried to take both of us, he'd fight too and she'd never get us both away, but if she took just him, he wouldn't fight." He dashed the tears from his eyes. "And she took him."

Adam put a hand on the other young man's shoulder. "That's . . . I don't know if I could have done that."

"I should hope not!" Sanviro exclaimed, starting at him in astonishment.

Adam didn't know how to take the response. "What do you mean?"

"You're the prince!" Sanviro said. "If we were all three there, we would sacrifice ourselves gladly to save you."

"That's not right," Adam replied, shaking his head. "I'm no more important than you or Jeclarren are."

"But you are," Sanviro said. "You are the heart of the nation." Adam flushed hotly. "You're the crown prince, the son of the man who was chosen by the Elders themselves to rule."

Adam shook his head again. "Regardless, I can see why you think so well of Jeclarren."

"Had you someone like him?" Sanviro asked. "She said she was in the habit of taking young men as her servants."

Adam swallowed and shook his head. "No, I was . . . she had a house that was entirely underground, and she'd been there for more than two hundred years. She'd developed a system that worked, and . . . there were twelve of them, but I only ever saw six." Adam felt himself starting to shake a little. He hadn't really talked about what happened to him much. Duncan knew and could tell his parents, so there was no need for him to say anything. "They never spoke in my presence . . . or almost never. One of them did, but it was clearly a break with his conditioning."

"They never spoke?" Sanviro repeated.

"She's not interested in conversation," Adam said.

Sanviro shook his head. "No, she isn't is she? Every time we spoke, she belittled us, and she wouldn't answer any questions."

"But she talks almost constantly," Adam said.

"I know." Sanviro grimaced. "But unless she's giving you instructions, it's not to you."

"No, it's not," Adam agreed. "But the six guards, they were all silent and expressionless. She . . ." He looked at Sanviro suddenly. "Did she give you anything yellow?" he asked.

"No," Sanviro replied. "Man-at-Arms asked me that as well. What is the yellow?"

Adam looked down at his hands and clenched them when he saw that they were trembling. "It's a conditioning drug. It makes you susceptible to suggestion. It . . . it was not a good thing."

"You aren't well," Sanviro exclaimed. "Should I get someone?"

Adam shook his head and caught his arm as he started to get up. "No, I'm fine, I just . . ." He shuddered. "She uses the drug to bind the boys she takes to her, and she had just given me a dose when my father found me."

"Elders!" Sanviro breathed. "What happened?"

Adam shrugged. "It was just . . . not good," he said.

Sanviro was looking at him worriedly, and after a moment, he got up and went to the door. Adam didn't have the presence of mind to try and stop him. "Sir?" Sanviro called. "I think Prince Adam needs . . . I don't know what he needs."

Adam was sitting with his hands clenched in his lap, trying to will himself to stop shaking. Hands took him by the shoulder and he looked up into his father's concerned eyes. "I'm okay," he said. "I was just talking about what happened, and . . ." His father abruptly pulled him into an embrace, and he felt himself calming.

"Is he all right?" Sanviro asked.

"He's just . . . he sometimes needs me."

Adam was feeling utterly pathetic and worthless. Sanviro had been with Daviona for more than a week, and had only been away from her for hours, yet he seemed relatively calm and collected, while Adam, who had been with her less time and been free of her longer, was a basket case. He wanted to howl with anger, but he just buried his face in his father's chest.

Dorgan came and took Sanviro away for his tests and after awhile, Randor drew a little back and looked down. "What were you talking about?"

"Just stuff, what happened to us," Adam said, looking down. "I'm sorry I'm so . . ." He couldn't finish the sentence.

"So what?" his father asked. Adam shook his head and tried to pull away, but his father wouldn't let him go. "Adam, what is it?"

"It doesn't matter," Adam protested.

* * *

Randor gazed down at his son with a mixture of exasperation and sympathy, though sympathy was the stronger emotion. If Adam was evading the question this thoroughly, it probably meant that he thought his father would have an answer for whatever was disturbing him that he didn't want to hear. He put an arm around Adam's shoulders and held onto him when he tried to pull away. "I love you, Adam, and it does matter. What's bothering you?"

"I'm just being stupid," Adam said, hunching miserably.

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" Randor asked.

"I'm embarrassed enough as it is," Adam replied. "And I'm the only one who knows about it. Why spread it around?"

Randor closed his eyes. "Son, we've already established that I'm not going to judge you. Please tell me what's on your mind."

Adam was silent for a long time, but Randor thought in this instance that it would be better to wait him out. His son fidgeted and tried to pull away a couple of times, but Randor just squeezed him tightly and stayed quiet. Finally, when the silence was weighing heavily on them both, Adam said, "I was a wreck for weeks after I came back."

"I'm not sure that's the word I'd use," Randor said judiciously. "But what's your point?"

"Sanviro isn't calm, he isn't okay, but he's not a wreck."

Randor considered how best to address this without damaging that most fragile of things, the adolescent sense of dignity. "I don't think your situations were as similar as you might think," he said after several minutes.

"How so?" Adam asked. "She used him like she used me."

"She didn't have a vindictive grudge against his father that she was trying to pay back," Randor pointed out. "He's not a well, so he didn't have that addictive flow of power coming out of him, making her want more. He wasn't surrounded by drugged zombies."

"He had a friend," Adam said suddenly. "Jeclarren sacrificed himself for Sanviro."

Randor blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. He broke her out of a spell that was dragging Sanviro towards the portal and told her that he'd delay her if she tried to take them both, but that he wouldn't fight if she only took him. The masters were close, so she took the deal and left with him."

Randor was stunned. An act like that bespoke more than friendship. Brothers might not do so much for one another. He cleared his throat. "And he wasn't alone."

"But still, I –"

"But nothing, Adam. Not only all of that, but you were given that conditioning drug just in time for it to hit you when things were incredibly chaotic around you. I don't know if Sanviro was given it, but from his behavior, I'd guess not. That makes a huge difference."

"Why would it make that big a difference?" Adam asked. "She didn't get a chance to use it against me."

Randor shook his head. "Adam, son, it made you susceptible to influence and rendered you incapable of shutting anything out."

"I need to go see how Sanviro is," Adam said, and Randor didn't feel he could hold onto him against that wish. He would address the matter again later, and maybe he could get Dorgan's help then. They went into the sitting room where Dorgan and Sanviro were sitting at the table. Sanviro was eating with a hearty appetite.

The young man looked up and started to rise as they entered, but Adam shook his head. "No, we're not king and prince here, and we like it that way." Sanviro sank back and Adam went to sit beside him.

Randor caught Dorgan's eye and the healer rose. They walked to the window and Randor raised an eyebrow. "He has the two milder aphrodisiacs in his system, 'the blue' and 'the green,' to use her terminology." He grimaced slightly. "He'll need to undergo the blood removal process to remove them from his bloodstream unless Orko has come up with anything less drastic."

"He definitely wasn't given the conditioning drug?"

Dorgan shook his head. "No, there's no sign of it. What was wrong with Adam?"

"He's comparing his reaction to Sanviro's and thinking ill of himself."

"Oh, for pity's sake!" Dorgan exclaimed and Randor waved his hands to quiet him, glancing at Adam to see if he'd heard. In a slightly quieter tone, Dorgan said, "I hope you put that idea out of his head very firmly."

"He's being very persistent," Randor replied, sighing. "It may take some time to persuade him." He pursed his lips. "I think we need a clearer idea of exactly what happened to Sanviro so that we can more accurately represent the differences between their experiences to Adam. I suspect that there were a number of significant –"

"Quite a number," Dorgan growled. "I got the boy to tell me the bare bones of his experience, and, I hope you don't think me presumptuous, but I told Sanviro the bare bones of what happened to Adam." He gazed a little nervously at Randor, as if expecting him to be annoyed.

"I'm glad you did. From all we've heard of him and what little I've seen of him, he seems a thoughtful boy. With that being the case, the more knowledge he has the better."

"I agree," Dorgan said with apparent relief.

"So, what happened with Sanviro and Jeclarren?"

"It's only the barest bones, really," Dorgan reiterated, "but apparently for the largest part of the time they've been gone, they were kept together. They took care of each other. Jeclarren cooked, Sanviro cleaned. When one of them was upset, the other comforted him. They talked to each other about the insanity of their situation. I suspect that there were no recordings taken there, because I very much doubt that she would have tolerated that sort of conversation."

"So, apart from the rape and the drugging, their experiences were not similar."

"And the drugging was not nearly as constant. From what I've been able to grasp from the summaries Raon has forwarded to me, she kept Adam hazy with drugs all the time that he was awake. She kept him naked nearly all the time, and treated him like a particularly adored pet, to be punished gently when misbehaving and otherwise to be petted and cosseted, and certainly not listened to." Randor closed his eyes against the recollection of the small scene he'd witnessed in the viewing room of her lair. "While she spoke similarly to these two, she didn't keep them in a drugged stupor. By the end she was alternating her use of them each day, and she only drugged them when she was actively using them."

"I hate that woman!" Randor ground out. "It disgusts and disturbs me to be considering an experience such as the one Sanviro has endured to be the lesser of two evils."

"I know, Randor, but you need to find some way to get across to Adam that there is nothing wrong with his reaction."

"I know that," he replied. "But I'm not at all certain that trying to compare their experiences will work. It may make it sound as if we're belittling what happened to Jeclarren and Sanviro, and I don't think Adam would take that at all well."

Dorgan pursed his lips. "Damn if you're not right, boy," he said, then shook his head. "I think the key difference is the lack of the conditioning drug."

"And Adam says that makes no sense because she didn't get the chance to use it against him."

"For the love of . . ." Dorgan narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "I'll try and come up with something, Randor, but it may take a couple of days."

He nodded and looked over at his son who was listening earnestly to something Sanviro was saying. His mind was filled with 'if only's. If only they hadn't sent him out with just Teela to guard him . . . If only they hadn't sent him out at all . . . If only he had been a better father to his son over the last several years . . . If only, if only, if only.

_

* * *

_

_I'd love to hear what you think._


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54**

Duncan landed a wind raider in Yalin and jumped out. Within moments, the square filled with people, all looking for news. He cleared his throat. "Are Ford and Borleon here?" he asked.

The two men pushed forward, looking anxious beyond words. The mayor stepped out of the crowd and cleared her throat. "Shall we meet in my kitchen again?"

"That sounds ideal, Marlita," Duncan replied. Accordingly, they left the square and went into the mayor's neat little house.

As soon as the door was shut, Ford spoke. "Don't keep us in suspense," he begged. "Have you got news?"

"We have recovered Sanviro," Duncan said, and Ford sat down very suddenly. Marlita's eyes lit and she smiled. Borleon covered his mouth with his hand and shook his head disbelievingly. "He is in good health, and is being seen to by one of the best healers in the land."

"Ancients be praised!" Ford exclaimed, tears running down his face. "He's well? Can I see him?"

"Actually, I was going to take you to him." Ford nodded and started to rise, but Duncan shook his head and sat down with him at the table. "I think there are a few things you should know first. You were aware that another young man had been taken as well, Jeclarren of Tronak?" They all nodded. Borleon found a chair and sat down. Marlita busied herself by a cupboard. "Well, from what I gather, they grew very close while they were imprisoned together." Duncan ran out of words. He'd contacted the Sorceress and gotten information on Sanviro's current condition, but the Sorceress had spent most of the day searching for signs of Daviona. As a result, she had comparatively little information to offer him aside from the fact that Sanviro and Adam seemed to be getting along well.

"Yes?" Ford said. "Go on, how is this Jeclarren?"

"We don't know," Duncan admitted. "She escaped us, and took Jeclarren with her."

"By the Elders!" Ford exclaimed, echoed by the others. "Is Sanviro in any danger?"

"To avoid that very possibility, he has been taken to a place she cannot penetrate. The point is, he's very upset about his friend still being with the witch, he is traumatized by what happened to him, and there's no telling what his reactions will be like. He will need support, and since he's already inclined to believe himself at fault, you will need to reassure him that he's not."

"Of course!" Ford replied, shaking his head. He seemed stunned, as if he were having difficulty taking it all in.

"Does Romily know yet?" asked her father.

Duncan blinked. "I don't believe so, unless Teela or Marlena told her."

"Have you seen him?" Ford asked, almost before he finished his answer to Borleon.

Nodding, Duncan said, "I was on the extraction team."

"And you say he's well?" Ford asked.

"In good heath, I said, he's very upset –"

"Of course he is!" Ford growled. "After being . . . being . . . what do you call it when it's a man?"

Marlita set a small measure of some amber liquid in front of Ford and Borleon. "I suspect you call it the same thing as when it's a girl," she said. "There, drink that. It should steady you both."

"Thank you," Ford said and tossed it down immediately.

"If any of you are interested in my opinion . . ." She paused.

"Please," Duncan said.

"I think they should both go. Sanviro and Ford need to see one another, and Borleon should see Sanviro so he can carry a report to his daughter." Duncan nodded. It sounded reasonable. "And we certainly don't want to give Sanviro the impression that Borleon no longer wants him for his daughter." She peered into Borleon's eyes. "Unless that's not so, in which case it would be dreadful for you to go see him."

Borleon stared at her. "What have I said that would give you that impression?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Marlita replied. "But the truth is, Man-at-Arms said it himself, we don't know how this will affect him."

"Mostly, he's been crying," Duncan said honestly. "Truthfully, though, is the village likely to accept him back? If not, we need to know as soon as possible, because we don't want to prepare him for it and then find that it's not going to happen."

"He will be welcomed back with open arms," Marlita said. "Have no fear on that score. He is well beloved here."

"What are we wasting time for?" Ford said, rising suddenly. "I want to see him."

Duncan looked at Borleon. "Are you ready to go?"

"Of course."

He guided them back to the wind raider and left Marlita to inform the populace of the good news. They took off and he set course for Grayskull.

After a few moments, Ford said, "Where exactly are we going?"

"Castle Grayskull."

"Elders alive!" Borleon exclaimed. "But that place is a haunted old ruin! Why would we go there?"

"Because it is the safest place on Eternia from magical attack. And it's not as ruined as you might think."

"And there's a healer there?" asked Ford. "To see to him?"

Duncan nodded and they fell into a puzzled silence until they landed outside Grayskull. Neither man made any move to exit the vehicle, and Duncan turned to face them. "I'd better explain something to you both –"

"I'd never heard that this castle was garrisoned," Borleon said, staring at the camp.

"Well, the crown prince and the king are currently in residence," Duncan said. Both men turned wide eyes on him. "In fact, Sanviro is staying in their suite."

"Why?" Ford asked in hushed tones.

Duncan grimaced. "They're taking care of him," he said. Then he cursed himself for his delicacy. Romily knew, Sanviro knew, and it would be unkind to Sanviro to say the least to ask him to keep something like that from his family, besides implying a level of shame that they didn't want him to attach to his own experiences. "You see, the reason we started looking for Daviona was because she captured Prince Adam. We retrieved the prince and destroyed her holding, but she escaped us, and that's when she took Sanviro and Jeclarren."

"When you say she captured the prince, you don't mean that the same thing happened to him as has been happening to Sanviro?" asked Borleon, sounding appalled.

"I do, I'm afraid," Duncan replied.

"But – but – but –" Borleon seemed in danger of being unable to finish his sentence. "He's a child!" he exclaimed finally. Ford simply looked devastated.

"He's sixteen," Duncan said, swallowing. "Evidently she considers that sufficiently mature." He bit his lip. "In some ways, Adam's experience was as bad as Sanviro's, in others, much worse. She has a personal animosity towards his father, and he himself . . ." Duncan shook his head and grit his teeth, unable to speak for a moment.

"And he is helping to care for Sanviro?" Ford asked. "And so is his father?"

Duncan nodded. "Adam has been very concerned about both young men ever since they were taken, and so have his parents. Now, they are –" He paused and held up a hand, because he could sense the Sorceress attempting to speak with him.

"_Duncan, tell them that Randor and Adam would prefer informality of address. And you have all arrived just in time for dinner."_

He nodded again, and both men looked a little discomfited. "Sorry," he said. "The Sorceress spoke to me. She asked me to tell you that both the king and Adam would rather you didn't acknowledge their titles. They want to be treated informally. They are Randor and Adam, the healer is Dorgan."

"I can't address the king by his first name!" Borleon exclaimed.

Ford thumped him on the back firmly, shoving him forward with the strength of the blow. "You can if he orders it," the tanner said. "Let's go in. I want to see my . . . my son."

For all his brave words outside, Ford proved incapable of being familiar with his king. Duncan guided them through the halls of the castle, both of them keeping nervously close. Duncan would rather they had walked a little farther away, they kept bumping him and apologizing. When they reached the suite, neither Adam nor Sanviro was in evidence. Randor greeted them, and both men became tongue-tied and anxious, and called him 'your highness' even when he specifically requested them not to.

After several uncomfortable minutes, the young men emerged from the bedroom. Ford let out an exclamation of joy, dashed to the young man's side and hugged him tightly. Sanviro seemed startled, but not at all alarmed. He hugged Ford back. Adam made his way to his father's side and Borleon looked on in nervous amusement. He kept glancing at Randor as if he was afraid that the king would take something amiss.

Finally, Ford, drew back from his foster son and said, "How are you, Sanviro? Are you well? Is there anything I can get for you, anything I can do?"

"Just coming is more than I . . ." Sanviro shook his head, tears streaming from his eyes. "You know what's happened, what . . . what I . . ."

"We were told, son," Ford said.

Borleon stepped forward and put a hand on Sanviro's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, Sanviro, we know that, too."

"Romily . . . she doesn't blame me?"

"Far from it. She loves you as well as ever, and wants to see you desperately."

"Is she here?" Sanviro asked urgently.

Borleon shook his head. "She's been staying at the palace, in company with Teela, the captain of the guards. I'm told she's been helping in the search."

"The search –" Sanviro's eyes grew wide. "Yes, the search. It must go on. Jeclarren is still with that foul monster, she's still – she's –"

"We won't rest until she's found and Jeclarren and all other young men are safe from her filth," Randor said fervently.

Adam stepped forward into the silence that followed and said, "You must be Ford and Borleon." Duncan confirmed this guess and introduced them. Adam smiled. "I'm glad you're here. I know having my father with me has helped me deal with this."

Sanviro looked vaguely alarmed, and opened his mouth as if to quell this misapprehension on Adam's part. Ford put an arm around the young man's shoulders and said, "No son could ever be dearer to me. I only hope I can be of help to him."

Duncan watched the joy dawning on Sanviro's face with satisfaction. After dinner, it was settled that Ford would stay the night with Sanviro at the castle and Borleon would return to the palace with Duncan to speak with his daughter.

In the wind raider, on the way to the palace, Borleon said, "Prince Adam seems a quiet, well spoken young man."

Duncan nodded. "He is, though I'm hardly one to talk. I helped raise him, after all."

"There's no harm in owning that you did a good job of the raising," Borleon said.

"Well, you can be very proud of Romily," Duncan said.

Borleon snorted. "Proud? With the way she ran off? You're very kind, but she's a foolish girl."

"She's devoted and loyal, both of which are good traits," Duncan said. "But it's something else I'm referring to. We haven't told many people, but Adam is in particular danger from Daviona. He has a natural gift that makes him very appealing to sorcerers, one that is very hard to shield against misuse."

"Elders, I should think you haven't told many. But what has Romily to do with that?"

"She's the one who suggested the means we finally were able to use to protect him," Duncan replied. "Without her contribution, we might still have been floundering, looking for a solution. No, you should be very proud of Romily because she's been working very hard to help Teela and a team of scholars search through historical documents to find any clues at all to Daviona's possible location."

"My Romily, working with scholars?" Borleon said in startlement. "I knew she was bookish, but her interests always seemed so sensational and ridiculous."

"Oddly enough, that's just what suited her to help us," Duncan said. They were both silent for several minutes. "By the way, you should probably be told, since you're daughter's part of it. Adam's to be married in about a week. Romily's going to be the bride's second witness."

"Elders! But he's just a boy!"

"He is, and the wedding's to be in name only for a few years, but there are reasons that make it necessary."

"Who is the bride? How did Romily wind up in her party?"

Duncan cleared his throat. "My daughter, actually," he said. "They've become very close very quickly. I suppose it's because they have so much in common, what with Adam and Sanviro."

"I suppose so. I'd never have thought my daughter would make such connections. The Captain of the Guard."

Duncan nodded. "We're not making it public yet, because the wedding will be a very small, private affair, but I thought you should know. Otherwise Romily will be biting her tongue on every other word about what she's been doing."

"True enough," Borleon said. "Though I suspect she'll have more to say regarding Sanviro, at least at first."

Duncan agreed.

* * *

Teela stood looking at herself in a mirror. She was standing on a stool in beaded slippers, the slippers she was supposed to wear for her wedding, and the seamstress was on her knees, basting the hem of the wedding gown. Though it was well into evening, they had little enough time to prepare for the wedding that every spare minute was taken up.

She was astonished by both the gown itself and her reaction to it. It was a very simple design, fitted in the bodice to the bottom of her ribcage, then flowing in loose skirts to her ankles. The skirts were very full, enough so that she could kick as high as she might need to in a fight. It was of dark blue silk, and the bodice glittered with iridescent beads in vine patterns that matched the slippers. It was sleeveless, but there were long falls of silk, also beaded, from the backs of her shoulders to the hem of the gown. Teela had always thought that she'd look out of place in a dress. She had been a gangly, awkward adolescent, and the girls of the court had never let her forget it.

Staring at the girl in the mirror, Teela realized that she was no longer gangly, and her awkwardness had all been worked out on the training field. Before her stood a poised, pretty girl who was about to become a princess. The very idea terrified and thrilled her. She didn't particularly want to be a princess, that was a misfortune that went along with marrying Adam. But she was marrying Adam, and that put all other concerns aside.

Romily and Delira were elsewhere in the palace, readying something for the wedding. Teela didn't know just what. Evidently she wasn't supposed to know just what, because the queen was being very quiet about what it was. She was just as glad not to be in their presence, though, because she wasn't sure that she could keep Sanviro's retrieval from Romily, and Marlena had said they'd better until there was more information about how he was.

Adam had spent much of the day in a state of distress, which she attributed to Sanviro's condition. Adam wouldn't like to see the other young man suffering the way he had when he was rescued. She'd tried to concentrate on soothing things, but she wasn't sure she could project that way. Not yet, at any rate.

The door opened to the side to her. "Don't move, dear," said the seamstress as she started to turn to see who it was.

"Elders!" It was her father's voice, filled with some emotion that she couldn't quite identify. She felt herself blush to the roots of her hair. "Teela, you – Elders!" he exclaimed, coming around into her range of vision. His eyes were wide and Teela didn't know how to read his expression.

"If you think I look stupid, just tell me," she said, grimacing.

"No, that's not it!" He walked up and cupped her face in his hands. Standing on the stool, her head was only a couple of inches higher than his was. "You look absolutely enchanting."

She didn't know what to say. "Do you think Adam will like it?" she asked.

"He will."

Suddenly, Teela remembered Sanviro and felt like an idiot for worrying about her vanity. "How is Sanviro? Is he all right? Will he be able to see Romily soon at all?"

At the impatient clucking of the seamstress, her father stepped back. "He's quite well," he said. "Much calmer than any of us expected, but he wasn't given the conditioning drug. Orko thinks she ran out of supplies to make more."

"That's wonderful!" Teela said. "So he's not . . ." She shook her head. "But, if he's not so badly traumatized as that, what's got Adam so upset?"

Her father shook his head. "I was only there for a short time," he replied. "And Adam seemed fine to me. What do you mean?"

"Since about an hour after we left the castle, Adam's been feeling very . . ." She shrugged. "I can't describe it exactly, just unhappy, guilty somehow, I think."

"Please keep still," said the seamstress.

"Maybe he feels guilty about what's happened to Sanviro."

"You mean like she wouldn't have taken Sanviro and Jeclarren if Adam hadn't been rescued the way he was?" she asked, and he nodded. "That's silly. It's not his fault. It's not even his father's fault. It's that bitch!"

The seamstress rose suddenly between them. "Man-at-Arms, sir, please forgive me for interrupting, but if you keep arousing agitated emotions in your daughter, I'm never going to get this hem basted."

Teela flushed. "I'm sorry, Bella," she said. "I keep forgetting."

Bella turned and smiled at her. "I'm sure your emotions are very natural, my dear, but it does make it difficult to keep the hem straight when you keep shifting about and stamping your feet."

"I know," Teela said, feeling chastened. "But –"

"But me no buts, young lady," Bella said. "It makes no difference why you're moving, I just need you to remain still."

Teela nodded and gave her father a frustrated look. "I'll be around later, Teela," he said, coming up and giving her a whiskery kiss on the cheek. "I'm very proud of you, I want you to know that."

She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He hugged back a little more gingerly, then drew away. "I love you," she said. He kissed her again and left.

Bella looked at her. "Now, can you be calm again for another half hour?"

"I think I can manage a half hour," Teela said.

"Good."

* * *

Reviews are love. Love is all you need. Therefore, all I need is reviews.


	55. Chapter 55

_Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long since an update. Not going to offer excuses, but thank you so much, those of you who have persevered so long with this admittedly insanely long story. I appreciate every single review. Be well._

**Chapter 55**

Leaving Romily alone with her father, Marlena accompanied Delira back to her parents' suite, where she found Sipriana sitting with some handiwork. The other woman looked up from her stitching with a smile. "Ardy's gone off to tell war stories with some of his old friends."

Delira sat down next to her. "Why didn't you go with him, Mother? Surely some of your friends are still around."

"Two reasons," Sipriana said. "One, my old friends wouldn't be in the same places where he's finding his old friends."

Marlena laughed. "Is he out in the taverns?"

"I believe so, my dear, I do believe so."

"What's the other reason?" Delira asked.

"Because with all that's been going on, I thought there was a chance that someone might need an ear. You, or the queen. How is your son, Marlena?"

"He's as well as can be expected under the circumstances," Marlena said. Given the situation and their intimate connection to the upcoming joyful event, they had brought Sipriana, Ardigan and their daughter up to speed on what had been happening. "I don't know how he's taking Sanviro's condition, in fact, I don't know Sanviro's condition myself."

"Sanviro?" Sipriana repeated. "I don't understand. Isn't he one of the boys that's missing? How could you know his condition?"

Delira smiled broadly. "He's been found, Mother! He's safe!"

Sipriana turned to Marlena. "Truly?"

Marlena nodded. "He's in Grayskull with Adam and Randor now. That's why Teela and I came away."

"What about the other boy?"

"Evidently, Daviona took him with her when she fled, and that's the extent of my knowledge. Sanviro's foster father is with him now."

"That's a mercy, though, that at least one of them is safe."

Marlena nodded, but all her thoughts were on the one who wasn't safe. Poor Jeclarren. Alone with that evil monster of a woman . . .

"Where's Romily?" Sipriana asked.

"With her father," Marlena replied absently. "He went with Duncan and Ford to see Sanviro so he'd be able to tell her how he was."

Sipriana nodded and continued with her knitting. "So, when is Adam coming home?"

Marlena opened her mouth to respond, but then closed it, suddenly unsure. With Sanviro so recently back, and undoubtedly needing comfort and medical care, Adam might want to stay with him. Randor was certainly not going to object to staying at Grayskull. He'd enjoyed the reprieve from his kingly duties. "Sanviro's recovery may delay our original plans."

"Ardigan's going to have to go home for a bit, then," Sipriana said. "He's been complaining of not having enough to do."

"I can arrange transportation," Marlena said.

"We'll see what he wants when he comes back," the other woman said comfortably. She and Delira began to discuss the wedding preparations they were engaged in, and Marlena let her mind wander a bit. Life had certainly grown complicated. Nothing, however small, could be decided without first considering how it might affect Adam's state of mind.

They'd need a suite with two bedrooms, Marlena thought, whether they used both rooms or not, and Teela was going to need some specific education in comportment. She'd never had a formal role at official functions aside from looking competent and threatening in the background. Marlena wondered if she'd realized yet that she'd need to step down as Captain of the Guard. Especially now that she and Adam were bonded, they couldn't risk her life that wantonly, not with Adam's life and sanity in the balance. She devoutly hoped that Teela would see it for herself and accept it. Nothing created resentment like foiled ambitions.

The comlink on her belt chimed and she started. Raising it to her lips, she said, "This is Marlena."

"This is Duncan, your highness." She raised her eyebrows at the relief in his voice, wondering what could have occasioned it. "I've been looking for you everywhere, but no one seems to know where you've gone."

"I'm in Sipriana's room," Marlena said, rising out of her seat. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, but I would like to speak with you privately if possible."

"In Randor's office," she said.

Marlena took her leave of Sipriana and Delira and headed to the office where Duncan met her. His face was somber, and he looked deeply weary. They went inside and shut the door. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing in particular," he said. "Teela just seems very worried about Adam's state of mind, and since he seemed completely normal while I was there, I'm not sure what's causing it."

"And it's bothering you." It wasn't a question, but he treated it like one.

"It is," he said with a nod. "I'd like to go back tonight to see how he is, and let Randor know." He was asking permission to abandon her, she realized.

"Of course, Duncan," she said. "I only wish I could go, but . . ."

"I'm not sure it would be a problem, but it would be better not to risk it."

"I agree."

"Ordinarily I'd ask . . . our hostess . . . to pass the information along, but she's been searching for Daviona all day. Apparently, when she uses portals, it increases the chance of locating her."

"Good. We have to get that other boy back from her as well. I hate to think of him still being tortured."

Duncan scowled. "And it's got Sanviro extremely upset. Apparently Jeclarren, believing as he does that he has no family, made a devil's bargain with Daviona to take him and only him so that Sanviro would be left behind."

Marlena gaped at him, then swallowed. "Elders and Ancients, what a . . . I don't . . . has anyone told Duros yet?"

Duncan's eyes widened. "I didn't even think of that!" he exclaimed, clapping a hand to his forehead. "I don't know where my head is."

"I'll tell him," Marlena said soothingly. "You go back and check on Adam, and tell Randor what Teela told you."

"I will," he said. "I'm just going to go get cleaned up before I leave. It's been a long day, and promises to be longer yet."

She nodded and watched him go. Duros would have to be told, and sooner rather than later. He had gotten to know Romily, and he didn't need to hear the situation from either the girl or Borleon. Sighing, Marlena rose to take up the task.

* * *

Duncan was exhausted. Adrenaline had carried him through the morning and into the afternoon. Since then he'd kept going on sheer will power. He needed a good cold shower to wake him up. The servants and courtiers looked at him curiously as he passed them in the halls until he finally reached the sanctuary of the royal wing. The security had already been increased significantly, and he nodded to the new guards that stood outside the door.

He climbed the stairs and entered his suite with a sense of relief. He shook his head, trying to clear it, because he couldn't afford to fall asleep yet.

Opening his bedroom door, he began to strip off his armor. He'd just removed his tunic when he turned and saw a reclining form on the bed. Letting out a startled oath, he jumped backwards. Evil-Lyn woke up with a start and stared at him.

"I thought you'd never come back," she said. "Did you get her?"

"Uh . . . no," he replied. "What on Eternia are you doing here?"

"Resting," she answered, shrugging. "I was utterly exhausted at the end of that spell, and I didn't have the energy to do more than wrap myself in shadow and seek a suitably private place to sleep." As if reading his objection in his expression, she added, "A suitably private place that was not at any great distance from where I was already."

"And my bedroom seemed like a good choice?"

"Better than many," she said, gazing at him languidly. He narrowed his eyes and refused to cover himself like a blushing maiden.

"Could we skip the melodramatic leering?" he asked caustically. "We're not in a sensational novel."

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Am I leering? I wasn't aware of it."

"Maybe you haven't spent enough time in civilized company to notice it."

Blinking, she raised an eyebrow. "Are you 'civilized company,' Duncan? I didn't know."

Heaving an irritated sigh, he said, "Much as I would love to stand here and bandy wits with you, Evil-Lyn, I have things to do."

"Bandy wits?" she repeated, savoring the words. He ground his teeth. "I do like the sound of that."

"Enjoy it to your heart's content, but I need to bathe now, and I suspect that Skeletor may be wondering where you are."

She rose at once, then remembered to be lazy and sardonic. "You may be right, Duncan, and I am rested enough. I will see you in three nights. Be here."

"Here?" he exclaimed. "Now –"

She vanished into shadow. The door opened and closed, leaving him cursing at empty air. Grimacing at her whims, he finished undressing and got himself cleaned up. He put fresh clothes on and pulled on his armor again. Seeing Evil-Lyn asleep on his bed had most definitely awakened him. He wasn't in any danger now of dropping off unexpectedly.

He stopped by to see Teela just long enough to let her know that he was heading to check on Adam and to let his father know about her concerns. Then he took a wind raider and headed to Grayskull.

* * *

After Borleon left with Duncan, Sanviro and Ford disappeared into the bedroom to talk privately. Randor watched Adam wander over to the windows and stare out at the moonrise. Dorgan made shooing motions with his hands, and Randor rolled his eyes. Dorgan shrugged and left into his own room.

Adam was very quiet as Randor approached. It was difficult to know how to broach the subject with him. He was still debating when Adam spoke.

"So, how do you plan to convince me that a comparison between my reaction and Sanviro's is invalid?"

Randor sat on the window sill and looked up at his son. "Why do you need convincing?" he asked.

Adam looked stymied by this reversal of tactics. Then he shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he said, walking away from the window. Randor sighed and watched his son wander around the room. He picked up pens and fiddled with them, looked at knick knacks he hadn't paid the slightest attention to since they'd arrived here, even picked up a book, but he put it down without opening it. He was standing by the table, fidgeting with the salt and pepper shakers, when he finally spoke again. "I've been thinking through your likely arguments, trying to see if I could break them."

Randor crossed his arms. "So, what have you come up with?"

Adam sighed and climbed up to sit on the table, his feet on a chair. He rested his elbows on his knee, letting his hands dangle between. "For one, I'm younger. Against that, all I can say is that it's only a year, which isn't much of an argument. A year at our age is like a decade at yours. The difference can be staggering."

"True," Randor said, nodding. "Go on."

"Well, then there's the fact that I'm not experienced sexually." He gave a little shrug. "Or at least, I wasn't." Randor wanted to say something, object somehow, but he didn't want to interrupt the flow of information. If he was lucky, Adam would do all the arguing for him. "But I don't think Sanviro was particularly experienced before this happened either, though I imagine he thought about it . . . sex, I mean . . . a lot more concretely than I ever have. I mean, he was going to be married."

"It's possible," Randor said neutrally.

"Still, I doubt very much whether it's much easier to deal with . . ." Adam colored. "To deal with rape," he continued more firmly, "even if you've had sex with half the kingdom. I think that argument falls flat on both sides."

Randor pursed his lips. "I'm not sure I agree, but we can defer that discussion till later. Go on."

Adam nodded. "There's the personal animosity she has for you," he said. "Sanviro's already said that the brand didn't hurt until long after she'd done it because she anesthetized it first." Randor nodded. Ford had asked about it and Sanviro had explained. "I can't come up with a good argument about that. I think she talked to me, directly, a good deal more than she talked to them, and early on, a fair amount of it had to do with you."

"I didn't know that," Randor said.

Adam shrugged. "I haven't talked about it much, and you haven't really had the freedom to read any reports when I wouldn't be likely to see them," he said, and Randor was struck by how clearly his son understood the situation and how calmly he accepted it. He wasn't sure, but he didn't think that most young men would be comfortable with the notion of other people writing and reading reports about their torture. He wasn't altogether sure if it was a good sign or a bad one.

Dismissing the faintly disturbing question to be addressed later, Randor nodded. "All right, so by your reckoning we have two points in favor of the differences in your reactions being reasonable, and one point neutral to both sides."

"Right," Adam said. He took in a deep breath and sighed. "Sanviro had Jeclarren to talk to. While I wasn't precisely alone, neither was I in the company of people like myself. Trevor and the others were all completely conditioned, and the only time any of them spoke it was to say that they all hoped for rescue, but that no one ever came. Not the most inspiring of communications."

Randor had to rigidly control himself. He didn't think now was the time to rush across and give Adam a hug. His son was trying very hard to be in control and to speak rationally. It would not be kind to rob him of that.

"So, I'm not sure I have an argument against that one. It was demoralizing to say the least to be alone with people who had so clearly been brought completely under her control. After Trevor spoke, it was actually worse in some ways, because it was abundantly clear that they weren't volunteers." Adam's voice broke, and Randor crossed to him.

"Are you all right?" he asked as neutrally as possible. Adam nodded tightly. Randor hitched himself up to sit next to him on the table and put an arm around his shoulders. He was rewarded by a slight easing in the tension of his son's back. "Do you want to go on?"

Adam cleared his throat. "Knowing that she'd taken people who didn't want to be with her and altered them so completely to serve her was disturbing. Sanviro and Jeclarren were told about that, but they didn't have living examples before them."

"All right," Randor said. "Anything else?"

"They weren't auctioned." Adam paused, and Randor remained silent with an effort, waiting. He could sense Adam's throat working, and he had to exert a lot of will to keep himself from reacting. "They weren't stripped to the waist on an auction block, at her request, no less, in front of . . ." He stopped again, and Randor saw tears streaking down his face. "She didn't buy them for an incredible, insane amount of money." Adam leaned in a little closer. "I don't have an argument about that. I have to confess, that was one of the most horrifying moments of my life. I felt so helpless, so humiliated. All those cloaked figures staring at me, malevolence rolling off them."

"Ancients!" Randor murmured. "Adam, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Adam said, regaining his composure. "It's a fact, one the hardest things to prevent is a well planned kidnapping. It's like you said, all they had to do was get ahold of me and then get away."

"Right," Randor said, struggling for a calm he couldn't feel. "Is that all your arguments?"

Adam shook his head. "Because Sanviro isn't a well, she didn't draw on him over and over again until he was weak and weary. From the sound of it, the sex wasn't . . ." He paused. "It wasn't a constant drain. It was a once a day thing, and so the drugs weren't consistently in his system. Against that, I suggest that he had a lot more time, with his mind clear, to consider his situation and how hopeless it must have seemed to him." He sighed. "Again, there doesn't seem to be much to choose between. Either way is bad."

"I suppose," Randor said doubtfully. To his mind, the constant drugged haze and insistent drain on his resources combined to make Adam's situation considerably worse.

"I didn't feel like I was betraying a trust. I didn't like responding to her, and it felt like a betrayal of myself, but I didn't have anyone else to betray at the same time. Honestly, I think anyone would feel like their body had betrayed them." Randor nodded thoughtfully. "On the other hand, I was terrified that Teela was helpless in the woods and that something would happen to her before you found her."

"So, do you think that evens out?"

"I don't know," Adam said. "I really don't."

"All right, we'll consider you uncertain on that point. Any more?" Randor wondered if he was going to bring up the issue of the conditioning drug. It would be interesting to see if he mentioned it himself or if he had to be prompted.

Adam was silent for a long time, and Randor waited. When he did speak, it was in a very quiet voice. "She didn't talk about keeping them forever. She didn't put a spell on them to stop their aging process and babble about never giving them up." He shuddered. "That wasn't good."

"No, I don't suppose it was," Randor replied.

"And then . . ." He licked his lips and grimaced. "And then . . . there's the conditioning drug. She didn't get a chance manipulate me using it, but I know it changed my perceptions of a lot of things and made it very hard for me to recover with any speed. Sanviro hasn't had to deal with that, thank the Elders, because she might very well have managed to attach him to her."

"That would have been dreadful," Randor agreed. "So, have you anything else?"

"Do you think I missed anything?"

"Not really. I think you covered most of my points."

"And?"

"And . . ." Randor shook his head. "Seven points in favor of your reaction being perfectly reasonable and appropriate to the situation, two neutral, and one you weren't sure of. Even without me adding my own arguments as to why I don't think the neutral points are neutral or my opinion on the uncertain one, you've made my case for me pretty strongly."

Adam nodded silently, and Randor wondered what he was thinking. "Okay, so it's logical. It makes sense. So why do I feel so wretched about it? I'm happy for Sanviro that he's not going through the hell I went through, but why does it make me feel inadequate?"

"Because you're always a little too hard on yourself," Randor said.

Adam shook his head. "I don't think that's it. I –" He faltered, looking at Randor's expression. "What? What is it?"

Randor smiled down at him. "You are so very like me at this age in some ways. I was always very hard on myself, always pushing myself to match my father's example." Adam stared at him, as if astonished to find that his father had ever felt that way. "At times I still feel I've fallen short, but that's the nature of these things." He shook his head and squeezed his son tightly. "It's natural to feel the way you're feeling, but that doesn't mean it's true. You have been remarkably, incredibly strong in the aftermath of all this. I'm –" His voice broke. "I'm very proud of you, Adam."

Adam's eyes were wide and he wrapped his arms around Randor in a fierce hug, apparently lost for words. Randor hugged back. He'd said it before, but perhaps it bore repeating. Not too often, or it would lose meaning, but Adam clearly needed to hear it from time to time. Randor held his son tightly, wishing again that he could give back the pain but keep the closeness that had been derived from it.


	56. Chapter 56

_Author's note: Thanks for all the immediate reviews. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy to get such quick responses._

_Eaglemith, if you would like further explication, I would be happy to help you out as much as I can. I have been a tutor for English as a Second Language, students at the college level. I don't know what your primary langauge is, but I might be able to find ways of putting things that will be clear, and I have friends who speak Spanish, French, German and Japanese if any of those would help._

_I am immensely impressed by all the folks out there who read stuff in languages they don't speak fluently. I don't have the willpower to keep trying._

**Chapter 56**

Still frozen and beginning to feel calls of nature that would eventually have to be answered, Jeclarren watched her build a new portal and wondered idly where they were going this time. How long would it take the searchers to find them? He no longer doubted that they would continue to look. If they hadn't already known of her determination to seize hold of the prince, Sanviro would tell them, and they couldn't risk her trying again.

His nose itched abominably, and he was astonished to discover that even after all that had happened, all the torment and misery, an unscratchable itch was still so frustrating. He supposed it was a sign that he was still him, that there was some portion of him that she couldn't touch. Or maybe it was just that he was growing used to torment and misery.

The portal shimmered, then became solid and Daviona turned to him. She walked over and stroked his cheek, coming just close enough to his nose to make the itch about five times worse. "Come along, my pet," she said, and he felt his legs begin to move. He contemplated the idea of fighting her, making her expend more energy, but before he could muster up the strength to try, he had reached the portal. On the other side he found himself in a very elegantly appointed room that looked as if it had been abandoned for a long time. There was a thick coating of dust everywhere, dimming the bright colors and gilt trimmings.

He felt the portal dissipate behind him and then Daviona's hand stroked across his shoulders. "You may put your burdens down now," she said, and he felt the freezing spell leave him. He dropped everything and rubbed his nose surreptitiously. She took a step forward and clapped her hands. "Clean!" she commanded. He was about to growl at her, but air in the room suddenly began to move. It was like being in a very dusty whirlwind. None of the dust reached them where they stood, but the room cleaned itself within a few seconds. Daviona laughed. "I wondered if that spell would still be active." She pursed her lips, looking critical. "I had forgotten, though, that it pulled its power from me. Did I never find a solution, or . . ." She turned thoughtfully in place.

Jeclarren watched her suspiciously. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Orovakka," she replied, and he blinked.

"Orovakka?" he repeated. "Isn't that an island in the Sea of Rakash?"

"It is. It is also the name of the primary town on that island, which was destroyed in large part during the war with Keldor." Gazing around at the decor, she curled her lip in scorn. "I had better taste when I lived here, but no matter. We will be here only long enough to regroup." Turning towards him, she said, "Bring the food and come."

Feeling mutinous, he bent and picked up the food bag, slinging it over his shoulder and following her, trying to gauge when the best time to kill her would be. Here he wouldn't have to worry about dying of starvation. He could probably find a job on a fishing boat to get himself to the mainland. Once there, he might even be able to make his way to Yalin and see Sanviro again.

The kitchen was even worse than the parlor they'd started out in. For one thing, it was clear that the house had been abandoned quite suddenly. Greasy remnants of food stained the wooden countertops, stale animal droppings littlered the floors, and it looked like something had nested in one of the lower cupboards. Again she clapped her hands and the mess was cleared away, leaving the stains behind.

"Yes, this will do for the short term until I can devise a better place." She turned and pointed towards a door. "There is a cold storage room in the cellar, though it's not magical." He went down the stairs, eyes searching for an exit, but even though there were windows down here, they were too small for him to wiggle through. He found the cold store and put the bag of food down, then went back up the stairs.

"Yes . . . the tower would be perfect," she was saying, looking out a window onto an overgrown garden. "I can find some locals to drain, that should give me enough power to build new protections."

_Locals to drain,_ he thought. _That means killing more people._ She had her back to him. He took a deep breath nerving himself to attack her.

"Then, once the protections are in place, I can seize Adam, and after that I'll have enough power to recreate my –"

Swallowing a cry of anger, Jeclarren rushed her, hands outstretched towards her throat. Abruptly he found himself caught in a net of magical energy and she turned, startled, to stare at him. She rose and pointed a hand at him. He felt paralysis take over his limbs and then she waved her other hand and the net of power dissipated, letting him drop to the floor where he fell onto his side and lay, frozen in mid-gait, both legs bent and outstretched.

"Rise," she said, exerting her will over him, and his body rose to its feet outside his conscious control. He glared at her intently, willing her to drop dead. She looked at him, eyes narrowed, seeming to see him for once, not the toy and servant she wanted him to be. He didn't like the feeling. "It is apparently fortuitous that I chose to come to this house." She walked around him, and he couldn't turn to follow her movements, though he could hear her quiet footfalls in the silence of the abandoned house. She stopped behind him, and he felt her pull the back of his shirt away from his body and slip her hands underneath. "Were you trying to kill me, my pet?" she asked, running her hands up his back. He couldn't even shudder away from her touch against his skin. "That would be foolish. The drugs I have given you are highly addictive. Without help, you would die within a month."

_It would be worth it!_ He couldn't speak the words aloud, but he wanted to. He wanted to tell her that nothing would stop him, he'd find a way to kill her, but the spell silenced him. Her hands traced the shape of his shoulder bones, then slipped around in front to stroke his chest. How he hated the feel of her hands on him.

"But it is of no matter, my sweet pet," she said, her voice full of amusement. "The spell on this house will protect me for as long as we are here, and I will devise better restraints for you later." She drew away and walked around in front of him again. Reaching up, she pressed a hand against his forehead and closed her eyes, concentrating briefly. Then she stood back, opened her eyes and gazed at him, smiling slightly. "And now you cannot leave the building. There is no escape. You are mine." With a wave of her hand, she released the spell holding him immobile. "You are free to wander the house as you will, though I will expect a meal to be ready in about an hour."

She left the room then and Jeclarren stared after her, despair welling up in him. _At least Sanviro is free,_ he thought. _At least he is out of this horror. Elders, I hope his Romily takes him back._

Slowly, he trudged back down the stairs and pulled out the ingredients he'd need.

* * *

Duncan entered the suite to find that Randor and Adam were sitting on the table. Adam had his head on his father's shoulder, and his father had an arm around him. They had their backs to him, and they didn't seem to have noticed his entry into the room. Neither Sanviro nor Ford was visible. Duncan cleared his throat, and Randor turned. Adam shifted a little further away from his father and looked around as well.

"Duncan," Randor said warmly. "How did Romily take the news?"

Duncan blinked at him. "I honestly don't know. I didn't stay for their conversation, and something else came up." He walked around in front of them. "Adam, how do you feel?"

The boy shrugged. "Lousy."

Duncan grimaced and stepped forward. "Teela was worried."

"Teela?" Adam said, sitting up straighter. "Why is she worried?"

"She said you felt upset, maybe guilty, and I . . ." He had meant to broach this with Randor, but for some reason he was blurting it all out.

"I think . . ." Randor looked down at his son. "I hope we have that worked out."

Adam shrugged. "It's just hard. I want . . . I want so much not . . ." Randor squeezed him. "But yeah, I think it is worked out." He ducked his head and gave them both an embarrassed smile. "For now, at least. Who knows how I'll feel tomorrow." He tilted his head and looked up at his father. "You may have to remind me that I made your arguments for you."

"I don't have a problem doing that," Randor said with a smile.

Duncan was thrilled to see the two of them like this, so much in accord, but a lingering worry surfaced. When Adam went back to being He-Man, how was Randor going to react?

The door to the bedroom opened and Sanviro came out with Ford. "Man-at-Arms!" Sanviro said, rushing forward. "Thank you so much. How can I repay you?"

Duncan smiled at the boy. "A wedding invitation," he said. "After all, your Romily is going to be in my daughter's wedding."

"She is?" Sanviro asked. "Congratulations. I had not heard that the Captain of the Guard was betrothed."

Adam shifted uncomfortably. "It was kind of sudden," he said.

"It's not . . ." Sanviro stared at Adam. "You are marrying her?"

Adam nodded. "I'm a well, she's a sorceress, it's kind of a . . . a necessary thing."

Sanviro's jaw dropped. "No wonder Daviona . . ." He trailed off, looking stricken, but Adam sat forward.

"What? What did she do?"

"It . . . I . . ." Sanviro looked to Ford and then to Randor and Duncan for guidance. Randor nodded, and Sanviro took a deep breath. "She talked about you all the time, to both of us. I didn't realize at first who she was talking about but . . ." He grimaced as Adam blanched. "I did not wish to upset you."

Adam shook his head. "I knew she was after me already, but . . ." He gulped. "It's hard hearing about it from someone who . . ." He got off the table and put his hands on Sanviro's shoulders. "I'm so sorry this happened to you."

"And I you," Sanviro said, impulsively giving the prince a hug. "But now we can support each other, if that isn't too presumptuous."

"No, it's great!" Adam said, his voice muffled in the other young man's shoulder. "And we can help Jeclarren together when we find him."

Watching them, hearing them speak, Duncan felt a fresh surge of pride in Adam, and of anger towards Daviona. Her needs dictated that she seize young men of sweet temper and kind spirits, to ensure that they would bond with one another and be able to take care of the younger boys. Somehow, that seemed, to his mind, to make the damage she dealt them even more heinous.

* * *

Teela escaped from the seamstress at last and walked out into the fresh air of the late evening. She needed a few minutes to herself. Adam had calmed down considerably, which made her happy. Her father had helped him, no doubt, or his had.

A group of particularly haughty court girls walked by, looking at her disdainfully. They must be returning to their rooms after some event or other. Teela was completely clueless as to what the rest of the palace was doing at the moment. She wondered absently which ones of them would continue to disdain her when she became Adam's wife, and which would try to make up to her as the new princess. Sighing, she dismissed the thought from her mind and set off walking in the opposite direction. It was a beautiful night, with both moons on the wax. The only thing missing was Adam on her arm. She let out a sigh, wishing she knew what to do for him.

She wandered over under the tree that he usually slept beneath and stood for a moment. She would give anything to have Adam back the way he was, carefree and indolent, even if he did hide from battles. She'd be just as happy if he kept hiding from battles. It would be harder for him to get dead if he stayed away from people like Skeletor.

After a few minutes, she resumed her walk. She should probably get back inside. The queen would wonder where she was, and Romily probably wanted to talk about Sanviro. She was just turning towards the palace when she saw the queen up ahead of her, standing at the cliff's edge, looking out over the valley. Teela walked up beside her. She started to speak, but then she saw that the queen was crying. Swallowing her words, she tried to figure out a graceful exit, but couldn't think of anything.

"Are you seeking solitude?" the queen asked, her voice surprisingly steady despite her tears.

"I was," Teela said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

"No, it's fine, Teela." Marlena continued to gaze out over the farmland. "I just had to tell Duros that we have Sanviro back, but that Jeclarren sacrificed himself to make that possible."

"How did he take it?"

The queen put an arm around Teela's shoulders, and Teela slipped her arm around the queen's waist. "He's very proud, of course, but . . ."

Teela nodded. "We will find him, and Daviona will die," she vowed.

The queen's brows knit. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, Teela, but we _are _going to have to take you off the search. We can't risk you now that Adam's sanity is tied to you."

Teela sighed. "I had actually figured that out," she said. "My resignation is already on Jenkins' desk." The queen squeezed her shoulders. "It doesn't mean I'm going to stop fighting, though. I plan to keep in fighting trim."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Teela blinked. "Though I suppose I'm going to have to fit that in around training in magic." She heaved another sigh. "Of all the things I never thought I'd do . . ."

Marlena looked thoughtfully at her. "Not only will you be a sorceress, but you'll be an exceptionally powerful one."

Teela stared at her. "I hadn't thought of that," she said, unsure what to think of the fact.

"I didn't think you had," Marlena said with a smile, stroking Teela's hair back from her face. "I don't think Adam's thought about it either. It will make you an interesting king and queen, I must say. You may find that a number of countries are suddenly very polite."

Teela laughed. "I doubt that very much. I'll probably be terrible."

Marlena shook her head. "I've never yet seen you try something you didn't excel at, my dear." Teela flushed, not knowing what to say. "Besides, I'm sure there will be many years before either of you have to do anything on your own." The queen put her arm around Teela. "Well, I'd better get back up to the palace or someone will begin wondering where I am."

"I was thinking that, too," Teela said. Together they turned back and walked through the gardens.

* * *

Daviona looked at the dinner Jeclarren had provided for her with disfavor. He wasn't sure what she'd expected under the circumstances. "Are there no other dishes?" she asked. He had placed her sandwich on the plate he'd been using to store the meat, wrapping the remaining meat in a clean cloth from the bag.

Jeclarren grimaced. "No."

"Pots? Pans?" He shook his head. "That won't do," she commented. "I'll remedy the situation in the morning." She sat down and began to eat, not even asking if he'd fed himself yet. She probably assumed he had, but Jeclarren had found himself unable to stomach food.

To avoid thinking about his own situation, he filled his mind with thoughts of Sanviro, hoping he was all right, hoping that his rescuers knew what to do for him, hoping that the girl he loved so distractedly wouldn't blame him for Daviona's crimes.

A hand on his arm made him start and drew him out of his reverie. "It's time for bed, my pet," Daviona said softly. He went with her, near to despair. He couldn't hurt her, he couldn't stop her and suicide would only lead her to seize another in his place. All his choices were bad.

Afterwards, he stumbled into the chamber she directed him to and went to his solitary rest, utterly exhausted. He contemplated his own feelings. He doubted very much that he would have given the slightest thought to his successor without Sanviro's influence.

Daviona had certainly come down in the world. This house had to be the scrapings at the bottom of the barrel for her. It was large and elegant, but most of the useful furniture was gone, all the dishes and nearly all the linens. The bed they'd – shared was the wrong word, but it would do – had been somewhat rickety, and his own bed was little more than a pallet. Not that he either wanted or needed anything more. He'd slept on far worse, and he hardly wanted to sleep on the bed he'd just left.

When morning came, he rose to find that Daviona had already left. He explored the house to see what else was there, but there was not much of it was of any real use to him. Lots of old furniture, a pair of looms, one huge and one smaller, spinning wheels. There was a room that was full of toys, and he wondered what had happened to the children they'd belonged to. Little paintings sat on shelves and in cabinets, and larger ones hung on the walls. Embroidery projects had been left in mid process, and there was an odd hoop thing on a stand with an incredible tapestry halfway done on it.

He found a trunk full of dusty old clothes and sorted out some that would fit him. When he realized that he was also sorting out clothes for Sanviro and Daviona, he threw them all on the floor and left the room hastily. That he'd even considered the bitch made him sick to his stomach. Some books on a shelf provided him with something to distract his mind and occupy his time until she came back. He sounded out words and tried to figure out the meanings of sentences.

When he heard footsteps in the building with him, he looked up unhappily. Daviona was back, and her steps were light and quick, which probably meant she was happy. He was sitting in the room he'd taken for his own with a book in front of him. It seemed to be about cooking. There were lists and the words 'stir' and 'bake' occurred frequently.

He was trying to figure out one of the words, a long one, when Daviona came into his room. "Separate," she said, and he glared up at her. She was practically glowing with energy which raised dire suspicions in Jeclarren's breast. She touched his shoulder. "Don't you know how to read, pet?" she asked.

Jeclarren gritted his teeth. "No," he said.

"Well, then, I'll have to make certain my next pet has the right knowledge to teach you," she said.

He surged to his feet. "No! No one else!"

She smiled. "Don't be silly, pet, you can't take care of me all by yourself, and you'd get lonely. There will be a dozen of you at the very least, and Prince Adam." Jeclarren shook his head wordlessly. There was nothing he could do to stop her. Nothing. "I left some supplies in the kitchen. You should get them put away."

"Did you kill anyone?" he asked even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"I did," she said with a smile. Jeclarren turned away from the sated pleasure he saw in her eyes, and she placed her hands on his shoulder blades, stroking his body. He took a step further away, and she made a displeased noise. "Get to work," she ordered. He went down into the kitchen and found a couple of crates of dishes and cooking utensils, and food supplies. He started cleaning things and putting them away.

Daviona came down into the kitchen. "Have dinner ready by sunset, my pet," she said. "I have to go out again."

"Whatever," Jeclarren said, continuing to wash the dishes she'd brought.

She created a new portal. He glanced over his shoulder to see her go, and found she was looking at him. "I don't like to see you alone like this," she added, then stepped through and was gone. He stared after her, appalled, and the portal flickered and died. She couldn't . . . she wouldn't . . .

He turned back to the dishes. Had he gotten Sanviro free only to doom some other poor innocent to his fate? He'd never put much stock in prayers to the Elders, but he closed his eyes and began to pray that he was misinterpreting her words.


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57**

Duncan woke up on the couch and sat up, looking around. Adam and Sanviro were eating breakfast quietly at the table. He was surprised that the two of them had risen before him, but then the previous day had been extremely full for him.

He stood and stretched. Adam looked up and smiled, an expression that was delightfully free of the misery that had shone out from his eyes every time Duncan had seen him since the rescue. "Dorgan's already up and in the infirmary room. He said you should take advantage of his absence to get cleaned up in his room." Adam's eyes were twinkling, and Sanviro looked amused and half-fearful, as if he wasn't sure how to expect Duncan to react.

"Did he?" Duncan asked sardonically. "Thank you, I'll take him up on that." By the time he came out the boys' fathers and Dorgan had joined them at the table. Duncan sat down at a free seat and helped himself to some food.

"Good morning, Duncan," Randor said. "We were just discussing what needs to happen before we can return to the palace."

"Apparently there's some kind of treatment required to rid Sanviro of these drugs?" Ford asked hesitantly.

Adam nodded, looking sober and uneasy. "They're magical, so they don't just leave the system like normal medicines do. It will make you sick, but not for long, and you'll stop feeling every touch of your clothing."

Sanviro's eyes widened. "That would be most welcome," he said earnestly.

"Orko's on his way over now," Dorgan said. "Fortunately, there is a lower concentration of the stuff in your system. I'm not sure why. Maybe Orko can answer that, but regardless, it probably won't take more than one treatment."

"You've taken this treatment?" Sanviro asked. Adam nodded. "How bad is it?"

"It involves needles," Adam said with a convulsive swallow. Sanviro put a friendly hand on his shoulder and Adam gave him a grateful smile. "But there's very little pain and since you're not as freaked out as I am by the needles, it shouldn't be too much trouble for you."

Dorgan explained the whole process to them, and Ford seemed considerably more worried about it than Sanviro was. He asked question after question about safety till Sanviro finally said, "Ford, the prince has already undergone it. Surely you cannot think they would risk him with an unsafe procedure."

Ford flushed and nodded.

It was obvious from Adam's concerned and sympathetic attitude that he was not going to be leaving the castle today, so Duncan took his leave and returned to the search. Once again, they had to start from scratch, and since the test tube with Adam's blood had been found smashed in the caves, they no longer even had that to help them.

* * *

Jeclarren was puzzling out the food book with the smell of a rich beef stew filling the kitchen when the portal came into existence again. He looked up, wondering who she would bring with her. If he was lucky it would be someone he couldn't like, couldn't feel sorry for.

Daviona stepped through the portal followed by someone much shorter than Jeclarren had expected. He rose slowly to his feet, staring at the . . . the boy, who was half his height and two-thirds his age, and blank of expression, obviously under the witch's direct control. He felt his jaw drop and horror took over his mind.

"You can't," he said, his mouth going dry. He stared at her in shocked dismay. "You can't molest a child that age."

"I have no intention of doing so," Daviona said coolly. "I could not find anyone suitable in your age range, so I bespelled this one's father and took him." She chuckled deep in her throat. "He won't even notice that the boy's missing for days, and since they were traveling, no one else will remark on it either."

Jeclarren shook with disgust and anger. "How can you take him away from his family?" he demanded.

"You are his family now, my pet," Daviona said, walking up and patting him on the cheek. "Get him settled in. We'll be staying here a few more days at least till I can get our new home properly organized." The boy's eyes were blinking as he gradually came to himself again. "I will be back for dinner in a few hours." She created a new portal and then was gone. Jeclarren watched in numb horror. How many people had she killed this morning to have power to use so extravagantly?

The boy was staring after her, too. "Who was that?" he asked, and his voice was further evidence of his youth, breaking between a boyish treble and a manly baritone.

Jeclarren sank into his chair. "Her name is Daviona," he said. "What's your name?"

"Morsi," the boy said. He hadn't moved yet. "You work for her?"

"Not by choice," Jeclarren said. "It's a long and highly unpleasant story."

"She said . . ." The boy looked around uneasily. "While she was controlling me she said you were going to take care of me. That I would be with her always, and that we would be like brothers . . . what does she want?"

Jeclarren shook his head. He didn't think he could tell this boy just what Daviona wanted. "Are you hungry?" he asked instead.

"A little," Morsi replied, and the way his eyes darted to the stewpot told Jeclarren that was an understatement.

"Let me get you some stew," he said. "I'm Jeclarren, by the way. I . . . I'll do my best not to let her hurt you."

"Thanks," Morsi said. "I want to go home."

"To your dad?" Jeclarren asked. Morsi nodded. "I know how you feel. My . . . my dad died when I was your age."

Morsi sat down and started eating the stew. Jeclarren got him some cheese and bread and tried desperately to think what else he could do for the boy. He dimly recollected her telling them that she'd collected young boys to train. He wanted her dead, but he didn't know how he could achieve that. In the meantime, all he could do was take care of Morsi and see that as little of Daviona's game playing impacted on him as possible.

* * *

When Sanviro was bedded down in his fever with Adam and Ford looking after him, Dorgan and Randor turned to Orko and the Sorceress. "Do you have any idea why his blood would have such a smaller concentration of the drug?" Dorgan asked. "I would have thought, with as long as he's been with her, his blood would be even more full of the stuff than Adam's."

"I'm not sure," the Sorceress said, her brows knit.

"It's not as strong as the other was," Orko said at the same time, and the Sorceress tilted her head at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Orko held up a finger, then whisked into the infirmary room, leaving the three of them to stare silently at one another. He came back in less than a minute holding two vials of red liquid. "This is some of Adam's blood when the drugs were at their strongest. This is Sanviro's before the treatment." He presented them to the Sorceress who studied then for a moment. While she was doing that, Orko turned toward Randor and Dorgan. "I think it may be that the drugs need to steep in the magic for a time to gain their highest potency."

"Really?" Dorgan said, clearly intrigued.

Orko nodded earnestly. "The linking of the molecules isn't as strong, and they don't easily relink when the cells they've been linked to die and leave the system. We're lucky she didn't have any prepared drugs."

"I see what you mean, Orko," the Sorceress said. "I am impressed. I would not have observed that without closer study."

Orko shrugged. "You weren't the one breaking the links, Sorceress," he said. "I could feel that they were weaker when they let go."

"I am still impressed by your perception," she said, smiling at him. Orko floated a little higher in response to her praise.

"Will Sanviro need another treatment?" Randor asked. The boy had not reacted like Adam. In fact, he had seemed rather fascinated to watch the blood leave his body, pass through the spell and return again.

"Nope," Dorgan said. "And I'm glad of an explanation, Orko, because I was having some difficulty coming up with one. A sufficient amount of the drug has fallen free that he should be recovered when it's flushed from his system."

"Good," Randor said.

The door to the bedroom opened and Adam emerged, shutting it softly behind him. "He's resting peacefully now," the boy said. "I'm glad he doesn't have problems with needles the way I do. That made it a lot easier for him." He looked at Dorgan and Orko. "How many times does he have to do that?"

"That was it," Dorgan said with a smile. "According to Orko, the drugs hadn't matured to full potency when she used them on him, so they weren't as powerful in him as in you."

"That's great," Adam said, grinning. "So, he's going to be okay!"

"He is, and if we're very lucky, so will Jeclarren when we recover him."

Adam threaded an arm around Randor's waist. "We'll all be okay," he said. "All three of us."

* * *

Teela had another fitting for her wedding dress the next afternoon, but this time Delira and Romily were there with her. Romily couldn't stop talking about how much she longed to see Sanviro. Delira gave Teela a long-suffering look as Romily started on another long homily on Sanviro's good qualities, but Teela was too much in love herself, and too closely recalled her own feelings while Adam had been missing not to feel sympathy for Romily's obsession.

Still, it would probably be good to change the direction of her thoughts, since there was nothing any of them could do to bring him here sooner.

"So, have you see the hall yet?" she asked. "Aunt Marlena hasn't let me go in there yet."

"We've helped with the decorating," Delira said. "It's beautiful, all blues and greens."

"I could help put things up, but no one will let me." Teela sighed and her shoulders drooped. Bella cleared her throat and Teela straightened quickly.

"Of course not!" Romily exclaimed, sounding scandalized. "You're the bride. Brides don't decorate the hall. It's bad luck."

"There's just so little time."

"You have enough friends to help with that, Teela," Delira said. "Even if it is hysterical to watch the masters hanging garlands," she added with a giggle. "Roboto insists on absolute precision while Mekanek insists that how it looks matters more than mathematical perfection."

"Who won?" Teela asked.

"I did," Romily said with unexpected firmness, and Teela stared at her in surprise.

"She did," Delira said, laughing. "Man-E-Faces tried to keep the peace, but he kept switching back and forth between the actor and the robot, and the actor agreed with Mekanek while the robot agreed with Roboto."

"And I told them to stop their arguing," Romily said. "Then, since it was obvious that they couldn't manage on their own, I took charge." She shook her head with obvious exasperation. "Men!"

Teela and Delira laughed.

"All right, off with the gown, my dear," Bella said. "Romily, it's your turn."

* * *

Daviona brought them fresher linens when she returned, and Jeclarren dished her up some stew, then went upstairs to make up a bed for Morsi. The boy was exhausted, and Jeclarren hoped he would sleep without any kind of disturbances.

"This is a really dirty room," Morsi observed as Jeclarren made up a pair of beds next to each other. "Is this where you sleep?"

"We've only been here one night," Jeclarren said. "Things aren't going as well as they might for Daviona. She's being chased, and I'm hoping that she'll be caught soon."

"Chased by who?" Morsi said, walking over to the window and drawing a line with his finger in the dust on the sill.

"The king's men," Jeclarren said. "She's attacked Prince Adam, and she's trying to capture him again."

Morsi turned, his eyes very wide. "She attacked the prince?" he exclaimed. "I'd heard he was sick, but I . . . no one said anything about him being attacked."

"Sick?" Jeclarren repeated, realizing that Morsi had news from outside, something Jeclarren hadn't heard from anyone other than Daviona for some time.

"I heard he was sent to a magician for healing," Morsi said. "And the king has been absent from the capital for some time."

"Has he really?" Jeclarren said, wondering. "I didn't know. I hadn't heard anything at all. I haven't seen anyone but Daviona and . . . and the other young man she had for awhile."

Morsi looked around fearfully. "Did she kill him?" he asked in a low voice that cracked and changed pitch.

"No," Jeclarren said. He plumped the pillow of Morsi's pallet and walked over to put an arm around the boy. "He escaped. He's safe now, wherever he is."

"Why didn't you escape?" Morsi asked.

"Only one of us could, and he has family," Jeclarren said, shrugging.

Morsi blinked solemnly. "Then I'm glad he's safe," he said.

"Me too." They were silent for a moment, and then Jeclarren said. "Okay, it's time for you to get ready for bed. She's . . . I may have to leave for awhile in a little bit, so I want to get you to bed before that happens."

Morsi grabbed at him, and Jeclarren was surprised to see how much the boy already seemed to need him. "Why would you have to leave?" he asked, sounding just a little bit desperate.

"It wouldn't be the whole night even," Jeclarren said. "I'll come back, I promise. Now, let's get you ready for bed."

Morsi obeyed worriedly, and when he was in his nightshirt, Jeclarren squatted in front of him. "Give me a hug, then let's put you to bed."

Morsi didn't reply, he didn't even move, and Jeclarren saw suddenly that his eyes were very round, staring at the doorway. Jeclarren turned and saw Daviona standing there.

"It's time, my pet. Put the young one to bed."

Jeclarren stood slowly and guided an unresisting Morsi to his pallet. Tucking him in, he gave the boy what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'll be back, I promise." Then he stood up and walked towards Daviona.

She cupped his cheek in her hand. "You will be a fine leader for my servants, pet. Now come along."

Jeclarren closed the door behind him as he went, not wanting Morsi to see any more than he had to.

* * *

Duncan went to Castle Grayskull soon after breakfast the next morning to see how everyone was. When he got there, he found Adam and Sanviro discussing weddings animatedly, Sanviro sympathizing with Adam about the way women got so wrapped up in them. Ford seemed finally to have come to some sort of peace about being on visiting terms with the king, for he and Randor were playing chess.

They all looked up at his arrival and Duncan smiled. "Good morning, all. How is everything?"

"Sanviro only needed one treatment," Adam said. "And his fever is gone."

"Mostly gone," Dorgan said, emerging from the infirmary. He walked over and touched Sanviro's head. "Gone enough to no longer be a problem," he amended.

"I feel well," Sanviro said with a broad smile. "And I thank you again, Man-at-Arms, for rescuing me. Is there any news on Jeclarren?"

Duncan shook his head. "I'm sorry, nothing, but we're still looking." Sanviro's expression darkened slightly, but he nodded. Duncan turned towards his king, but he paused. Randor had an odd look on his face, and after a second, Duncan recognized it as the abstracted look of telepathic communication. He felt a stab of irrational jealousy that the Sorceress was talking to Randor but not him.

The king stepped forward after a moment. "Our hostess wishes to come in and speak with you, Sanviro. She will be able to help protect you."

"Who is she?" Sanviro asked.

Adam spoke up. "She's a very good and wise woman, the Sorceress of Grayskull."

Sanviro's eyes widened. "I have heard legends, but I did not believe . . . I didn't not think . . ."

"She's real," Adam said.

"And I am to meet her?" Sanviro exclaimed, just this side of awestruck. Adam nodded, and Sanviro took a deep breath. "I am honored!" he breathed.

Adam's eyebrows raised and Duncan hoped he would keep whatever he was thinking between his teeth. "Hold that thought," Adam said. "When I first met her I was kind of rude, so I –"

"Adam!" Randor exclaimed, appalled by this intelligence. "What are you saying?"

* * *

Adam turned slowly to look at his father, suddenly remembering his presence and realizing that he might not have wanted to be so frank in front of him. "Um . . . it was just . . . I thought . . . I thought Man-at-Arms was playing a joke on me. I didn't realize she was for real. Honestly. I apologized!" He gulped at the disapproving expression on his father's face and, unable to bear it, launched himself at him, throwing his arms around his waist. "Don't be angry!"

"Adam, I –" Arms wrapped around him. "I'm not angry, just surprised."

"It is long since forgiven and forgotten," the Sorceress said, walking into the room.

Adam pulled away from his father in a sudden flush of embarrassment. He'd just done that in front of Sanviro and Ford. He stood self-consciously for a moment, then his father put an arm around his shoulders and he relaxed a little.

Both Sanviro and Ford were staring at the Sorceress with round eyes. She walked up to them and smiled. "Sanviro, I am glad to see you so well," she said.

"I'm deeply honored by your hospitality, my lady," he said, his voice low and reverent. Ford nodded earnestly, apparently tongue-tied.

"It is my pleasure to offer it," she replied. "Now, I happen to know that your young lady is extremely eager to see you. Do you think you are ready to see her?"

Adam turned to Sanviro, expecting delight and eagerness, but the young man's face fell. "I am not worth of her love, my lady. I have . . I am . . ."

The Sorceress shook her head and Sanviro's words petered out. In a very gentle voice, she asked, "Do you mean to imply that Prince Adam is not worthy of his intended?"

Sanviro's eyes flew wide. "No, of course not. But he was not betrothed at that time, he broke no faith with her."

"Nor have you broken faith with Romily." Adam could tell that Sanviro wanted to contradict her but held her too much in awe to interrupt. "You could no more resist Daviona than you could fly!"

"It's true," Adam said. "She's too . . ." He shuddered. "Those drugs are . . ."

Sanviro bit his lip and nodded. "Romily wants to see me?" he asked hesitantly.

"She does."

"I . . . I would like to see her. I have missed her terribly."

"Very well. Would you prefer to remain here, in seclusion, or are you ready to go back into the world?"

"With private spaces available, of course," Adam's father said, and the Sorceress nodded at him.

Adam swallowed. Back to the palace. They were supposed to have left already, but they'd stayed for Sanviro. He wondered if it would be easier to face the court with someone who truly knew what he'd been through at his side.

Sanviro looked over at Ford. "It's up to you, son," the old tanner said.

"I . . ." Sanviro looked over at Adam. "Will you be going, too?"

Adam took in a deep breath. "Yup, I will."

Sanviro smiled. "Then let us go."

Adam nodded.

"Then there is something that must be done before you leave," the Sorceress said, and Sanviro looked back at her. "I don't wish to alarm you unduly, but Daviona has proven to have the ability to drain her victims, those she has held, from a great distance."

"What?" Ford exclaimed, putting his hand on Sanviro's shoulder. "Isn't there anything that can be done?"

The Sorceress nodded. "I can place a shield on Sanviro that will prevent her from being able to affect him in any way." She looked at Sanviro. "Is it all right with you for me to do this?"

"Of course, lady, if you will," Sanviro said. "I am deeply moved that you would condescend to act on my behalf."

Adam blinked. He'd say Sanviro was like a courtier, but Sanviro actually meant what he said. He was just amazingly eloquent. The Sorceress took him apart from the rest of them and sat him down in a chair. Ford followed, watching intently, obviously prepared to intervene if he saw any signs of distress. Adam turned to his father. "Are you ready to go back home?" he asked.

"If you are." Randor put his hands on Adam's shoulders. "Are you ready?"

"I think so." Adam shrugged. "We're not going to know for sure till I'm there. Just promise me that if I melt into a puddle of goo, you'll scoop me up and hide me somewhere."

His father smiled. "I promise."


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58**

Jeclarren had been relieved to find Morsi asleep when he had returned to their room the night before. Now the boy was a font of energy that could be put to no use but those that might benefit Daviona, and he didn't particularly want to benefit her.

"Do you mind if I clean out the room we're sleeping in?" Morsi asked.

Jeclarren shrugged. "Go ahead. Just close the door so you can stay out of her way, okay? I don't want her to . . . to bother you."

Morsi nodded earnestly and ran off. Jeclarren continued to fix lunch for them all. He had taken her breakfast up to her while Morsi ate downstairs. He knew why she had done this. A boy tied him to her. He could no more leave a boy in her clutches than he could have left Sanviro, and any threat to isolate him from Morsi would be even more effective.

"He is most eager, is he not?" Jeclarren stiffened at her voice. She moved so damned silently when she wanted to. "Eager to please. That's why the age is so perfect. They're old enough to do real work, but young enough to want to please anyone who is kind to them."

"It's not a kindness to steal a boy away from his father," Jeclarren said without turning away from the work he was doing.

"Perhaps, but he will live a good deal longer and more luxuriously than he would ever be able to in his father's care."

"Luxury?" Jeclarren repeated sarcastically. "I haven't seen any signs of that so far."

"In time, my pet," she said, walking up and running her hands up his arms. He stiffened again and stopped working. "In due time. Randor and Skeletor have spoiled everything, but I can build it up again." Her hands found the hem of his shirt and slipped beneath it.

He pulled away, glaring at her. "Not where Morsi could see," he said harshly. "He's only a child."

She laughed. "I will be back late. Be certain that Morsi is abed by then, and prepare me a dinner that will keep. I have things to do."

Jeclarren shrugged. She leaned up and kissed him on the lips, and he shuddered away from her. She turned away and built another portal, then left without another word.

* * *

"How are you feeling, Teela?" The queen had sought her out and taken her for a walk in the garden, so Teela contemplated the question seriously, recognizing that Marlena must have a reason to be asking.

"I don't quite know," she said slowly. "A little overwhelmed, but . . . I don't know, calmer somehow. I've been worried constantly for the past few weeks about Adam, but now he's just a thought away. I know how he is just by wondering about it." She blinked. "Right now, he seems calm and very content."

"I'm glad to hear that," Marlena said. "But you? How do you feel about getting married so soon? About having given up your position? How do you feel?"

Teela took a deep breath. "I would do anything for Adam," she said. "I have to confess, I never thought I'd get married this young, and I'm a bit nervous about how the court is going to take it."

"I'll make a confession to you," the queen said and Teela looked up at her attentively. "I am too."

Teela sighed. "That's not a good sign, I don't think."

"Don't worry, dear, we'll muddle through." Teela nodded, uncertain that she liked this sign that adults didn't have any more sense of control over the world than kids did. The queen seemed to recognize this reaction, because she put an arm around Teela's shoulders and squeezed. "You should be prepared for people treating you almost as a bereaved spouse for awhile, you know," she said gently, and Teela knit her brows.

"What do you mean?"

"We've told people that Adam is ill," Marlena said, drawing Teela over to a bench and sitting down with her. "And now we're marrying the two of you in a sudden, surprise ceremony." Teela nodded. "The assumption will be that Adam is so ill that he isn't expected to live for long, and that we hope the two of you will provide heirs quickly to secure the succession."

Teela blinked. She hadn't really considered that construction of events. She'd been so caught up for so long in finding Adam and then looking for his kidnapper that she'd almost forgotten that most of the court had no idea what was truly going on. "How do we convince them otherwise?" she asked.

"We don't," the queen said. "You won't produce an heir in the next year, Adam won't die young, and people will forget about it. Gradually."

Teela shook her head. "People never forget things at court," she said. "They seem to, they stop talking about them, but they never forget."

The queen sighed, but she smiled at Teela with a sad look in her eyes. "I sometimes lose track of the fact that you and Adam were forced to become so savvy about court at a young age. No, they won't forget, and it will undoubtedly come up again from time to time in some rumor or another, but all we can do is keep going. You may have to insulate Adam from any amount of unpleasant gossip. I quash stories about Randor more often than I'd like."

Teela noticed that Adam's anxiety seemed to be growing, and she hoped her discomfort with the queen's words wasn't influencing him. "Being queen is more than boring parties and being nice to diplomats, I know that, but I don't really know everything you do, Aunt Marlena."

Marlena tilted her head and tucked a strand of Teela's hair back behind her ear. "In a way this early wedding may be good." Teela raised her eyebrows. "You'll have a long apprenticeship. Once things settle down, you'll have to start attending parties and functions with me." Teela made a face, and quickly suppressed it. Marlena tapped her on the nose. "Once you start watching from an angle other than security, I don't think you'll be bored. Irritated, quite likely, exasperated, sometimes amused, but not bored. More goes on at those functions than meets the eye."

Teela felt a sharp upswing in Adam's anxiety at the same moment as a beep sounded on Marlena's com unit. "A wind raider is arriving, your highness," said the familiar voice of Guardsman Ivan. "I believe you'll wish to meet it."

Abruptly, Teela realized that the increase in tension she'd been picking up from Adam over the last few minutes had nothing whatsoever to do with her. She reached out mentally to test her theory, and discovered that she could sense Adam's proximity to her. He was nowhere near as far away as Grayskull. Marlena deactivated her com unit, looking puzzled, and Teela seized her hand. "Adam's back!" she exclaimed quietly.

Marlena's eyes widened, then her smile grew incandescent. Catching hands, they ran together towards the landing pad.

* * *

Adam looked around the palace grounds from the air. It felt like it had been a year since he'd been here. He wasn't altogether sure he was ready to come back, but he was now committed. His father sat next to him, seeming almost as tense as he was.

"Land at the end near the infirmary," Dorgan said from the front seat, and Duncan nodded.

"Why?" Adam asked. "You checked both of us over before we left Grayskull."

"Yes, but there are instruments in the infirmary that I did not have available to me at Grayskull."

"So I have to spent my first hours back home in the infirmary?" Adam exclaimed.

"It shouldn't take more than thirty minutes," Dorgan said. "I'll get you and Sanviro out as quickly as possible."

As they approached the landing site, however, Duncan began to curse and Adam peered out over the edge of the wind raider. There were forty people gathered, and more coming. He saw his mother and Teela in the front of the group, but there were dozens of people there, lots of them women. Court girls of every shape and size crowded forward.

Adam looked at his father. "There's no good way to ask them to leave, is there? Not one that won't make things look worse."

"I'm afraid not, son," Randor said grimly. "Can you do it?"

Gulping, Adam raised his chin. "I'll have to, won't I? Turning back wouldn't be any better than asking them to leave."

"I'll be right beside you." Adam looked up at him and smiled his thanks.

They landed and Adam's father got down. Adam slipped down beside him and Teela ran across to greet him. Her eagerness to see him was almost overwhelming, and he could feel it as well as see and hear it. He stepped forward and gave her a tight hug. Having her in his arms felt so right, it was unbelievable.

After a moment she pulled away and glanced aside at the throng, flushing slightly. "I'm sorry, I think it's our fault you have this reception committee. Your mother and me, I mean."

"Let's worry about why later," his father said, his voice quiet, but pitched to reach them in the babble. "We need to clear the pad so the other wind raider can land."

"Right," Adam said and, offering Teela his arm, he started forward through the crowd. It was alarming, but his father was at his back, Teela was at his side and his mother and Duncan were nearby as well. All that helped, but he was deeply nervous as he walked among the gathered people. They felt very close, very confining, and his steps faltered. His father put a hand on his shoulder, exerting gentle pressure forward, and he got moving again.

He didn't meet anybody's eyes, but he nodded frequently as people called out to welcome him. Scents reached him, some of the girls were obviously doused with perfume, and that made him tense. Calm seemed to exude from Teela, however, which helped him to maintain. He was very glad that Teela didn't feel the need to bathe in perfume.

The halls were lined with people, too, and while he was pleased to know that everyone was glad to see him back, it was all a little hard to deal with. Teela squeezed his hand. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he felt some of her strength flow into him. Whether it did or not, though, the gesture helped.

Finally, they reached the infirmary. The room was largely deserted, and Adam heaved a sigh of relief. He couldn't have handled being crowded by medics after that greeting. Dorgan pushed his way into the room and said, "Let's get started, Adam."

More poking and prodding. Adam sighed and put up with it because he didn't have much choice. Man-at-Arms didn't come in. Presumably he was out dispersing the crowd. Within a couple of minutes, though, Sanviro and Ford entered, Sanviro looking vaguely harried.

"Are you all right?" Adam asked.

"Where is Romily?" Sanviro said, looking around.

Teela made a strangled sound. "I'll go get her. I don't think she even knows you're –"

The door flung open and a very pretty girl with curly brown hair came running inside followed by an older man. "Sanviro!" she cried.

"Romily!" They ran towards each other, and Adam almost expected to hear music, like in a play. They hugged tightly, then Sanviro drew away. "Can you ever forgive me?" he asked.

"There is nothing to forgive," Romily declared. "The trials you have suffered only make me love you more!"

"Thoughts of you helped me to survive that awful place," he replied tenderly, and she burst into tears, burying her face in his chest.

It deteriorated from there. There was much talk of worthiness and unworthiness, of beauty and compassion. It was amazing. Adam had never heard the like outside of a play. Still, he couldn't begrudge them their happiness. They'd been through a lot. Ford and the other man, who he assumed was Romily's father, were watching with amused tolerance, as were Adam's parents. Adam glanced over at Teela to find that her eyes were shining. She appeared to be close to tears. He poked her and she looked down at him in surprise.

"What?" she asked in a low voice.

"If you turn into a fountain, so help me, I'll . . ." Her face lost the touched, teary look and her eyes snapped angrily. "That's better," he said with an impish grin.

She glared and punched him lightly on the shoulder. Dorgan had just stopped poking and hadn't started prodding yet. Adam responded by poking her again in the side, just were he knew she was most ticklish. She poked back, and Adam tugged on one of her front locks of hair.

"Children!" his father said in an undertone, and they both turned to look at him in guilty surprise.

"Sorry, Dad," Adam said.

"Sorry, your highness!" Teela said.

"Uncle Randor."

"I think it's better if I continue to call you 'your highness' at the palace, unless you want to announce things."

Adam's parents exchanged an unfathomable look, and Randor nodded without speaking. Finally, it was Sanviro's turn, which broke up the babbling. Romily began asking the old healer questions and Adam waited for the explosion. It was unexpectedly mild when it finally came.

"What can I do to help?" Romily asked breathlessly after a long series of other inquiries.

Dorgan pointed at a stool about ten feet away and said, "Sit there, and be quiet." Romily nodded earnestly, then walked over and sat down, watching intently.

Teela let out a wordless exclamation and went to Romily's side. "It's all right," she said. "He's like that with everyone, even the queen sometimes."

Adam fully expected Dorgan to say something about how the queen didn't ask him nonsensical questions so quickly that he didn't have time to answer them, but he didn't, he just kept working on Sanviro. Evidently Sanviro and Romily's tenderness towards each other softened even the irascible old healer's temper. A bit.

Eventually, everything that needed checked had been checked, and Dorgan released them to go to the royal wing. Sanviro seemed to be surprised that he was accompanying them, but Adam knew that Romily had been given a room there already. No doubt Ford and Borleon would be as well.

Duncan had cleared the halls, so they reached the royal section of the palace without an audience. Adam was glad to be inside his home again. Dropping Teela's hand, he rushed to his bedroom and flung the door open. Running across to his bed, he flopped down on his back. Cringer bounded up and landed next to him, bouncing slightly. Adam let out a sigh. This felt so normal.

After a moment he sat up and looked around. His mother and father stood in the doorway, smiling at him. He smiled back and for the first time in ages felt like himself.

* * *

Evil-Lyn dropped one last shield around Snake Mountain. As it settled into place, she surfaced from the trance that had been required to build and place it. When she opened her eyes, she found Trap Jaw standing over her, looking down at her. She stiffened. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice coming harshly.

"Skeletor has called a meeting," the oaf said. "Tri-Klops just told us that the prince is back from Grayskull."

"I see." She rose from her cross-legged position and strode out of the room. Trap Jaw had to scramble to keep up with her, which made her grin slightly. Putting any of them out, discomfiting them, made her very happy.

In the throne room, Skeletor sat comfortably atop his dais. "Is everyone here?"

Evil-Lyn smiled. "I'm here. Do you need anyone else?"

"That's difficult to say, Evil-Lyn," he said, looking around at his other minions. "It rather depends on how useful the others feel inclined to be. The time has come to seize my bride."

"Bride?" Beastman asked. "I thought we were grabbing the prince."

"We are, you nincompoop!" Evil-Lyn said, concealing her own disgust at the idea behind a facade of contempt for the furry oaf.

"But he's a boy," Beastman pointed out with irrefutable logic. "Boys can't be brides."

"He won't be a boy at that point," Skeletor explained.

"But . . ." Beastman shook his head. "It's not productive. Can't produce offspring."

"That doesn't matter, Beastman," Skeletor growled. "The boy is –"

"Better to take that 'Teela' to mate," Beastman went on. "She is strong and smart. She'll produce good whelps."

"I don't wish to produce whelps," Skeletor said. "I wish to gain the power that dwells within Prince Adam."

"But –" Beastman didn't get anything more out because Skeletor blasted him. Evil-Lyn watched him slam into the wall, then turned back to the lord of Snake Mountain.

"He has a point, Skeletor," said a gravelly voice. Evil-Lyn turned to stare at Tri-Klops, and she sensed Skeletor's power building for another blast. "If you had kids with Prince Adam . . . disturbing as that idea is . . . they'd be the lawful heirs to the throne."

The power dissipated, and she looked over at Skeletor to find him gazing with surprised pleasure at Tri-Klops. "So they would," he said musingly. "And if Randor were to die thereafter, I would be wedded to the legal monarch of Eternia. What an intriguing notion."

Evil-Lyn saw the awful logic of it and shuddered internally. Only the fact that she already knew that Skeletor couldn't gain access to Adam's power kept her from panicking. She cocked her hip and crossed her arms. "So, what is it you wish of us, Lord Skeletor?"

"We must formulate a plan to seize the young prince of Eternia," Skeletor said with an evil grin. "Any suggestions?"

"We could just grab him," Trap Jaw said. "Wait until he goes out on his own and –"

"That's not likely to happen any time soon," Evil-Lyn pointed out. "They're going to be guarding him closely for awhile after what happened the last time they took their eyes off him."

"We could do it in a week," Tri-Klops said, and they all turned to look at him curiously. The tech shrugged. "I suspect that the wedding will provide a sufficient distraction to take advantage of."

"Wedding?" Skeletor repeated. "What wedding?"

Tri-Klops had the smallest of grins on his face. "Prince Adam's wedding," he said. "It's set to take place a week after his return from Grayskull, which happened today."

"Who's he marrying?" Trap Jaw asked.

With a gesture, Tri-Klops summoned one of his doomseekers. It began to project images of one of the palace parlors. Captain Teela stood on some sort of platform in the center of it surrounded by seamstresses and young women. The queen was there as well, and they were all discussing the upcoming event.

"Will Prince Adam's clothing be ready, your highness?" asked one of the young women. Evil-Lyn didn't have any idea who she was.

"He's having his fittings in another part of the palace, Romily," the queen said with a smile. "I had them start early with his old measurements, and I've arranged for the tailors to fit your Sanviro out with something suitable."

The girl, Romily, glowed with happiness, and it was enough to make Evil-Lyn sick. The other girl spoke up wistfully. "I haven't seen his highness yet. How is he?"

"He's fine," Teela said with a smile and an inward look that told Evil-Lyn just who the boy's power was bound to.

The queen smiled at her daughter-in-law to be benevolently. "He is perhaps a little nervous, but you'd expect that under the circumstances."

"I wish I could strangle the beast who hurt him," the girl said, and Evil-Lyn narrowed her gaze. Who was this girl?

"You and me both, Delira," Teela said. The seamstresses backed away and called the queen's attention to the gown. Teela flushed as they all gazed at her. "How do I look?" she asked.

"Like the most beautiful bride in all the world," Romily declared with unbounded enthusiasm. "I hope I look half so lovely in my gown."

"Turn it off!" Skeletor snarled and the images faded. "So, that little snipe thinks she's going to marry my well? We'll see about that." Evil-Lyn looked over at Skeletor and was no little astonished to see how very jealous he looked. "You're quite right, Tri-Klops. The wedding would provide the perfect moment, but we had best interrupt it before the solemnities are finalized, or I'll have to kill the little bitch before I can take Adam to wife."

Evil-Lyn blinked, unable to control her own discomfiture at this image. Skeletor's gaze switched to her instantly and she knew she had to come up with something to distract him from her reaction. "Why not kill her anyway?" she asked. "It would probably be fun."

"You have a point," Skeletor said with a maniacal grin. "It would emphasize my control over the boy from the outset." She hadn't expected him to latch onto the notion with quite such enthusiasm, but there was nothing she could do about it now. "Very well, it is settled. We will seize the boy during his wedding and kill the bride . . . and anyone else who happens to get in our way."

Evil-Lyn gazed up at the Overlord of Evil and nodded with the others. She would have to warn Duncan as soon as possible. In the meantime, she'd better fall to with the planning or Skeletor would become suspicious.

* * *

Duncan walked into the room where Randor was watching the tailors fit his son with his wedding clothes, heart heavy with the news he had to impart. The king turned towards him with a happy smile that fled at the sight of Duncan's eyes. He rose and crossed to his son. "Adam, I'm afraid I may have some kingdom business to see to. I'll be back in a moment."

Adam smiled at his father, but there a brittleness to his expression that was most worrying. "Okay," he said.

"I'll be right outside," Randor said, and Duncan bit his lip at the grateful look Adam gave him. "I'll be back soon."

They left him alone with the tailors, Sanviro and his witnesses. Raon and Mekanek both looked a little worried as they left, but Duncan knew he could count on both of them to conceal their concerns from the boys.

Outside the door were the guards that Duncan had set on the prince. Adam didn't seem to have noticed, or if he had noticed, he didn't seem to mind. Duncan led Randor far enough away from the guards to be out of earshot and the king gazed solemnly at him. "What is it, Duncan?"

"I think she's killed again," Duncan said. "I'm taking Orko to the death site to be sure, but there is a cluster of young men dead in one of the southern townships. Four of them, again, but I think it may have been worse than the previous occasion, because these four were together, and I . . ."

Randor's jaw dropped. "Together? But with one woman – how –"

"She's a mage, Randor," Duncan pointed out. "And I gather that the four of them were ruffians who got their kicks together, keeping just the sunny side of the law."

"Elders," Randor breathed, and Duncan nodded.

"I'm afraid she may have lured them in and then slaughtered them one by one with the others watching."

"But you haven't seen them yet?" Randor asked, and Duncan shook his head. "Then you'd better go and find out. I don't want to tell Adam anything until we're sure, but go speak with Marlena as well."

"Yes, sire," Duncan said. "And I'll report as soon as I know anything."

Randor nodded and returned to the parlor where Adam was. Duncan went out to the township of Lunadel and found all to be as he'd expected. Orko verified her presence in a sick voice, then attempted to leave so quickly that he ran into the doorway and had to be carried out by Ram-Man. They took care of the formalities, then Duncan left Buzz Off with the local authorities to clean up the mess. He returned to the palace and went straight to his rooms. He felt filthy and in need of a wash.

When he emerged from the shower he found a familiar figure looking in his closet. "You should wear some of these casual clothes more often," Evil-Lyn said, her voice laden with irony. "It might make you more approachable."

"Who says I want to be approachable?" he asked sourly. "What are you doing here?"

"I told you I'd return in two nights," she said, turning. Her eyes widened and she smiled at his unclad state. "You know, even though you claim not to appreciate my visits, you always provide such a welcoming air of informality."

"It's not my choice," he growled, irritated beyond words because at this point he could either drop the towel to dress or retreat into the bathing chamber and demand clean clothes of her. Or he could stand where he was and speak to her wearing nothing more than a towel around his loins.

"You have a lovely chest," she observed, and Duncan grimaced. "Have I told you that?"

"Strangely enough, it hasn't come up."

Her eyes dropped to his groin and then met his again with an arch look. "Not yet," she said.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "It's been a wretched day, and I'm not in the mood for games."

"Too bad, I think you might be fun to play with," she said, but at his glare, all the playfulness dropped out of her expression, leaving her expression somber. "I thought you might want to know that Skeletor has decided to take advantage of the wedding to seize Adam. He also plans to kill Teela as his primary rival for Adam's affections."

"Adam's affections?" Duncan exclaimed. "What the hell are you talking about? I thought he just wants Adam's power."

"It's Skeletor," Evil-Lyn said, the mocking tone back. "He never does anything by halves." Duncan had to admit the truth of that statement. Evil-Lyn crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed. "And Tri-Klops pointed out that if he turns Adam into a girl, then marries her and gets children on her, they will be the legal heirs to the throne, and he reasoned out for himself that if he was married to Adam when Randor dies, he'd be the husband of the reigning monarch."

"Wonderful," Duncan groaned. "Will it never end?"

"Unfortunately, I doubt it. Even if Skeletor finds out that Adam's power is locked away from him, the lure of legally ruling Eternia may still call to him, and two of his other goals in transforming Adam into a woman will still be met, discomfiting He-Man and Randor."

"Damn!" Duncan growled. A thought occurred to him and he straightened. "How did Skeletor find out about the wedding?" If she'd told him. . .

"Tri-Klops showed us images of your daughter getting fitted for her wedding clothes," Evil-Lyn said with a roll of her eyes. "It was quite nauseatingly sweet, though your daughter does seem to attract very martial friends." Duncan wasn't altogether sure what she meant by that. Evil-Lyn shook her head. "I think you'd better work on a way to guard yourselves against those doomseekers."

He ground his teeth, then took a deep breath. "I have to report to Randor, so if you don't mind, I need to get dressed." He gestured toward the towel.

She smiled and sat down on the bed as if prepared for a fine show. "Oh, I don't mind at all."

Snarling imprecations, he snatched some clothing and slammed back into the bathing room. Her laughter chimed merrily behind him. When he emerged, she was still there, and he glared at her. "Can I help you?"

"You could, but I doubt you would," she said, leering at him. "Come now, Duncan, surely it's been as long a time for you as it's been for me." She was drawing closer, and the way she was moving reminded him firmly of her definite femininity. It had been a long time, but now was not the time and she was not the woman.

He held up a hand. "I have to go report."

She shrugged. "Fine. Go report. I can wait a little while longer."

Irritated by her heavy-handed flirting as well as alarmed by Skeletor's plans, he hurried out of the room. It took a little looking to locate Randor, but he was loathe to use his com unit for fear Adam would hear. As he strode through the halls, his libido kept reminding him of what he'd just passed up, despite the fact that he knew she'd only been teasing him. What she didn't – couldn't – know was that he'd always found her attractive – on a physical level – even back during the war, and his body was less discriminating than his mind. Banishing thoughts of those long legs and deep violet eyes from his mind, he focused on the task at hand.

He finally found king was sitting in the parlor next to Adam's bedroom. Duncan walked in and sat down. "Adam?" he asked.

"Asleep in his room. Sanviro and he are sharing a bed. I think they may do so until the wedding."

"That's a touch more appropriate than Teela," Duncan observed. "I was right in all respects. Daviona killed all four of them, and according to Orko when he regained his self control, she drew power from the whole process, the sex with each of them, the pleasure in what they initially took to be a . . . a . . ." He searched for an appropriate word. ". . . a group event, the fear as they realized that she was the one in control, their deaths, one by one . . . it was nauseating, and Orko may be some time in recovering from it."

Randor shook his head. "I imagine the power she gained from such manipulation . . ."

"Orko says it was staggering. He's very ill from the little contact he had with the residue of her . . . her orgy."

"Poor Orko," Randor said. "What are we going to do, Duncan?"

"Unfortunately, that's not our only concern at this point," he said, and the king's eyes widened.

"What more is there?" Randor asked.

"Skeletor has decided to capture Adam, and he plans to take advantage of the wedding to do so. Evil-Lyn told me," he added to answer the mute question in Randor's eyes. "Evidently the doomseekers picked up people preparing."

"Damn it," Randor growled. "Can't Adam have anything remotely normal in his life?"

"I'll give some thought to ways to solve the problem," Duncan said. "But I think I'd better check on Teela, then go to bed."

"Teela's staying the night with her witnesses," Randor said with an amused smile. "Delira, Romily and she are becoming fast friends. I believe she's going to ask both of them to be her ladies in waiting when things settle more. I must confess, I like the idea of Sanviro staying around for Adam's sake."

"And Sanviro could surely use Adam's presence," Duncan observed.

Randor smiled. "Yes, I think he could." He put a hand on Duncan's shoulder. "Get some rest, old friend. I will need you tomorrow."

"Are you going to bed soon?"

Randor nodded. "Marlena will come and fetch me before long. Go, Duncan."

Duncan rose and left his king. Returning to the suite he shared with Teela, he went into his bedroom, half expecting to find Evil-Lyn still there. The stab of disappointment that struck him when he found she wasn't surprised him. He'd known she wasn't serious.

He stripped off his armor and tossed it in a corner, then stretched. The day had been long and had ended with horrors beyond comprehension. He only hoped he would sleep without dreams.

Hands settled on his shoulders. "That didn't take as long as I'd expected," a low voice said in his ear, the husky tone thrilling along his nerves. He almost didn't recognize Evil-Lyn's voice devoid of her usual overly dramatic tones. "I almost didn't have time to prepare."

He whirled in surprise, but her hands just lifted long enough for him to turn, then settled on his pectorals, hot through the think fabric of his shirt. He gazed at her in deep shock for a long moment, her violet eyes meeting his in challenge. She was wearing nothing but a wisp of purple silk. Abruptly, he grabbed her around the waist and crushed her to him, kissing her deeply, caught beyond all thought of self-control.


End file.
